


When Father Was There

by Midoriberry



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Period-Typical Racism, Recreational Drug Use, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-12-31 23:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18324197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midoriberry/pseuds/Midoriberry
Summary: Goro had many desires and dreams. If he could go back in time and fix everything he would, even if it meant ceasing to exist. Never in his wildest dreams did he think his Persona had the power to grant him that wish. But when he sees Shido in the past, Goro quickly realizes Loki is not one to give him exactly what he wants. Or so he thinks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me as I was writing my other fic.  
> I liked it so much, I had to write it. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Sighing for the umpteenth time since the call, Goro watched as the lights glowed for each floor the elevator passed. Shido requested for his presence, most likely to discuss a new target or his status with the Phantom Thieves. They were a thorn on Shido’s side and Goro’s as well. If they got in the way, they could potentially destroy Goro’s chances for revenge. What if they found out the brains behind the berserking and shutdowns was Masayoshi Shido?

Knowing the Phantom Thieves, they’d stop at nothing to change Shido’s heart. If successful, Goro’s plans to get back at the man who ruined his life would be rendered moot. Shido’s despicable behavior and wicked heart would be lost and Goro’s purpose for continuing would render into dust.

He would not allow it. All the hard work, the years at the various orphanages, the people he had to eliminate? No. Goro had to go on with his work. Shido needed to pay for the hell he put Goro through.

His mobile chimed.

It was Ren.

Goro smiled at the text message.

Ren [This Saturday’s the big day. We’ll be taking Sae’s heart.]  
Goro [Are you nervous?]  
Ren [Nah. Hey, before we do that, do you want to meet up at Leblanc? Tomorrow maybe?]  
Goro [I’d like that.]  
Ren [It’s a date then!]

The temperature in the elevator rose as his face tingled heat. Was it just him or was it getting hot in here? “That idiot…”

Difficult to admit, however deep down inside, Goro liked him. Not just as a potential friend or rival, but perhaps… something else?

Goro shook the fond feelings he cultivated for the boy in the past year. He was now at Shido’s condo and any distractions or lingered thoughts of Ren Shido would catch. The man was far too perceptive for his own good.

Minimalistic and clean, Shido’s home had a simple yet elegant decor. Goro visited his home a few times, and each time the home tempted him to explore to gain more knowledge about Shido. What did Shido like besides drinking, banging beautiful women, and campaigning for his election? In the two years he knew Shido, a huge chunk of his life remained a mystery to Goro. Shido kept to himself, even amongst trusted company. Goro gathered a few things here and there such as Shido’s illegal gun ownership and his preference for white daisies, but otherwise his father’s past and idiosyncrasies eluded him.

_If I knew more, I could probably use that info to get him to bend under my will._

Shido opened the door. “Did anyone see you?”

“Of course not,” replied Goro. He let himself in, his shoes removed at the genkan. “I take it everything is going well?”

Goro plopped onto the couch. For a sterile-designed couch, it managed to be plush and comfortable, something Goro felt odd regarding Shido. While Shido did appreciate and preferred the finer things in life, he seemed to like comfy things too. Who knew a hardass enjoyed simple pleasures like that?

Shido stared at Goro’s childish antics, annoyed. A brat as always. “It is. However, there is the issue of the Phantom Thieves. How goes your infiltration?”

“Today I was-”

A phone rang. Shido picked up his cell and answered it. “Yes? … Right…You _what_?”

Goro did his best to not look at Shido while he spoke. His house was far more interesting. He noted the lack of personal framed pictures and wondered if Shido was shy or simple disliked taking photos. At most, Shido only had framed art or artistic photos. Otherwise, empty. No sign of a wife or children. No extended family members. No memorabilia from his past or any heirlooms. Goro half-expected for there to be a family samurai armor. Such a serious and distinguished man, yet his home lacked any of it.

_Come to think of it… Does Shido even have family?_

Goro thought about Shido’s family registry. It was all public information and easy to obtain. Why hadn’t he thought about it before? All the answers he sought after were with the family registry! He could find where his father came from and who were his family members. Considering Shido’s ambitious and manipulative behavior, he must have originated from a family of bad people. A money-hungry mother, a neglectful father who only wanted the best and accepted nothing more, maybe some unkind siblings who shared the same values as their parents. Probably bullied people and hung around the popular, rich, and the elite as no one else proved worthy to grace the Shido family.

Yes, that was the sort of family Shido must have come from. Someone as vile as him couldn’t have been raised in any other setting.

And Shido, of course, would have been no different from them. A bad seed coming from a long line of bad trees, propagating their illness into others and society. Rotten people like that shouldn’t be allowed to succeed in this world but they did. Shido himself evidenced this. A textbook case of society’s unfairness and its blatant favoritism to those growing with privilege and lustful ambition.

If there were a chance to change it - thus his own fate - Goro would jump at the opportunity in a heartbeat. Goro often dreamed of going back into the past and stopping his mother from ever meeting Shido. Yes, it meant for his own demise, but the comfort of never suffering, never to go hungry or without a hug or a simple praise? Priceless. Goro never wished his life on anyone, so why wish it upon himself?

Funny enough, the most of his time travel dreams involved him changing Shido’s mind - the irony was not lost to Goro. To show Shido how much he and his mistress were meant for one another. To foster and raise the child together as a loving family. All Goro wanted was for Shido to take responsibility. He had his chance before Goro’s birth, and he blew it. Now Shido had to take responsibility for the pain and anguish he caused to his own flesh and blood. Shido only had himself to blame.

Shido hung up his cell and grabbed his blazer. “I have to attend to something important, Akechi.”

“Should I leave-”

“It won’t take long. I need to speak with you face to face about this matter today.” He leered, pointing at Goro. “Don’t touch anything except the television. I _will_ know.”

“Yes sir.”

Shido left without a hitch, his home at the mercy of Goro.

“Did he just…” Goro blinked. “...do that?”

Goro stared at the blank television screen.

Incredible. Simply incredible. Shido left him in his home all by himself. No chaperones or security goons. Shido _trusted_ him to roam in his house, possibly the most intimate part of him aside from his thoughts. What a fool! A stupid fool! Shido had no idea the truth behind Goro’s identity or why Goro approached him in the first place. It took two and a half years, but Goro finally became closer to Shido in a way no other person had.

“What an amazing opportunity!” He laughed. “It’s just like that time when I got the metaverse app! God or some demon, I don’t care! I’m so close to toppling that rotten bastard.”

**“What if I gave you a chance?”**

“Huh? Who’s there?” Goro looked around the condo, yet he was the only life present. A dark thought pressed deep into his heart. “...Loki?”

**“You dreamed about changing the day your father abandoned you, did you not? Close your eyes, child. I shall take you to your most desired place.”**

Long, red fingers crept over Goro’s eyes. His body shivered from the trickster’s icy hands. Despite their coldness, the fingers burned into Goro’s eyes though there was no pain or scalding, only blindness. In the darkness, Goro could see everything and yet it was all unseen to his eyes. A trick of the mind. His mind the one thing able to process the unfathomable darkness and still lost itself under the cold haze that was Loki’s touch.

The sensation weighed heavy on his body. Goro ripped his Persona’s hands away from his face and found himself in Shido’s home.

Shaken, Goro opened the bathroom door and stepped through to splash cool water on his weary face.

Goro tripped over a large, warm lump in front of the door.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” yelled a teenage boy wearing a black gakuran and a second-year pin. He stumbled onto grass, cursing over a lost cigarette. “Guys help me find it.”

“Huh!?” Goro, too, lost his balance and fell in the other direction. He watched the boy he tripped over desperately search the grass for a lit cigarette.

A boy? Why was there a young boy inside Shido’s bathroom?

Actually, where was he?

A hot, stuffy breeze swept through, sobering Goro from his daze. He was outside in what appeared to be a school building. Three teenagers - probably delinquents - huddled onto the ground patting and parting the grass.

“I found it!” said a dark foreigner.

“Put it out,” replied an Asian, though not Japanese.

“What a waste,” lamented the stumbled teen. He rubbed his face, pinched his cheeks and sighed again. “Oh well.” The boy stood up and offered his hand to Goro. His eyes widened when he got a good look at Goro. Their faces were nearly identical.

Goro took the teen’s hand and propped himself up. The odd stares he received from the group did not help. _Why does he look like me?_

A small cassette radio with a long antenna blared 70s music through its old-fashioned speaker. Despite it being an ancient model, the radio appeared pristine, almost as if it were just removed from its package. The Asian kid held a box of cigarettes from a familiar brand Goro saw often in adverts, however, the logo was all wrong; the font was completely different and the patterns were unusual.

The foreigner munched on a bag of potato chips.

Goro recognized the brand instantly. _How in the world did he get those? That brand was discontinued six years ago!_

“What year is it?” Goro blurted, knees weak though not from the fall.

“Dude, what the fuck? Are you high or something?” asked his doppelganger. “Because I need to have whatever you’re having.”

“Man, I feel like I’m tripping out. He looks just like ya,” the Asian pointed out. “Take off his bangs and it’s literally ya.”

The guy wasn’t kidding at all either. Despite a few notable differences - the “twin’s” hair was shorter and darker, he was taller, and his eyes were bright amber - overall they could easily be mistaken for brothers.

“Is he a cousin of yours, Makkun?” asked the foreigner.

“Not that I’m aware of?” The doppelganger shrugged. He sized up Goro, observing his physical appearance and mannerisms. “That’s a fancy uniform. Where do you go to school?”

Goro thought hard about his answer. Nothing about the situation made any sense. One minute he was in Shido’s home during the evening in November, the next he was outside a school in the middle of what felt like a hot summer day. The boys didn’t answer his initial question. Depending on his response, they’d either accept it or think him mad. “I’m a third year at Yokubo High.”

The twin whistled. “That _is_ a fancy school.” He stroked his chin. “I almost went there too.”

This was getting Goro nowhere. “You guys didn’t answer my question: what year is it?”

“Damn this guy must be high off his rocker, José. He’s not even wearing shoes.” The doppelganger grinned. “It’s 1980, jackass.”

Impossible! How could it be 1980!? When Goro said he dreamed about time travel he meant something more along the lines of when his mother lived or 1997 at the earliest. How did he even get here? Why this year? Why-

Loki…

The trickster god of the Norse pantheon. His Persona.

Loki brought him here.

Was it to taunt him or for a noble cause? A trick to teach him a lesson about silly wishes? What was his purpose for bringing him thirty-six years into the past? If a Persona was a facet of one’s true self, what did this say about Goro for Loki to transport him into a time he never considered?

His doppelganger unnerved him. Something about him sent a cold sweat throughout his body and it wasn’t his thuggish looks either. He had a familiar swagger about him. Confident. Charismatic. Yet he didn’t seem like such a bad guy by the way he smiled and held out his hand to help Goro. Hell, he seemed to have forgotten getting crashed into and let the transgression go. Who was this kid and why did he resemble Goro so much?

The year 1980, huh? Goro gulped. He had a feeling who this youth was and prayed his deductions were incorrect.

“But seriously, you seem cool.” The doppelganger tucked in a lock of his hair behind his ear and pulled out an extra pair of shoes from his book bag. “Wanna come smoke with us? You’re high as shit and we were gonna smoke anyway.”

“You’re so rude, Makkun. Introduce yourself to our senpai at least.” The foreigner cleared his throat. “Hello, my name is José Manuel Pontes. Just call me José.”

“You’re such a mom, José,” replied the Asian. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Kim Hyun-Woo. Not sure if ya know Korean names, but Hyun-Woo is what ya should call me.”

“See if these shoes fit.” Doppelganger placed the shoes next to Goro’s feet. “And I’m Shido Masayoshi. Masayoshi’s fine.”

Heart pounding. Ears seared in fire. Goro hated to be right and cursed his deduction skills. Of all the people he had to encounter, it just had to be Masayoshi Shido, his corrupt bastard father. Such a cruel joke his Persona played on him. Goro never desired this. A monkey paw situation over a lonely child’s innocent wish to have his past changed into something better. What irony! What was the reason to be here? What can he change!?

“My name is…” Goro paused, his fingers pinched his hand. It hurt. “Tanaka Goro.”

Masayoshi arched an eyebrow. “I see… Come with us, Tanaka.”

 

 

The boys dragged Goro away to a nearby riverbend and sat under a bridge to hide from the unbearable heat.

“The school fucking sucks for making us wear the winter uniforms in this weather,” groaned Hyun-Woo, removing his gakuran. The others followed, including Goro.

“Right?” Masayoshi fanned himself with a notebook. “You doing okay, Tanaka? Your face is red.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Goro waved his hand and smiled. “The humidity’s not helping.”

Masayoshi reached into his school bag and pulled out a bottle of ramune. “Here. I think you need this more than me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take that, Masayoshi-kun.”

“I don’t want you passing out.” He poked the cool bottle against Goro’s arm. “Come on, I insist.”

“I’m fine, really.” Goro rubbed behind his neck. Awkward wouldn’t even begin to describe how it felt to have a teenaged Shido offer him a drink. He already gave him his shoes, which thankfully fit - a little big but well enough to function if the laces were tied tight. Perhaps he could pull rank to lessen the blow. “As your senpai, I must decline. I can’t let underclassmen give me things when they themselves need it.”

Masayoshi frowned. Underclassmen his ass. “I don’t care about your opinion, _senpai_. You’re high as a fucking kite. Drink the damn soda.”

“Just do it, man,” chuckled Hyun-Woo. “It ain’t but a thing.”

Goro accepted the drink, noting the soft smile on Masayoshi’s face when he broke the marble seal and sipped it. “Thank you.”

“Hey guys,” José started, “what kind of tattoo should I get?”

“Get something that represents ya,” said Hyun-Woo. “Something Brazilian but Japanese style, ya know?”

“T-tattoo?” Goro gulped his ramune to hide his nervousness. Despite coming from 2016, some things hardly changed. Tattoos were primarily for yakuza members. It couldn’t possibly be any different in 1980. “Why would you get one?”

José shrugged. “Why not?”

Masayoshi sighed. “I don’t think you should. You’re already at a disadvantage as it is.”

“I’ll be fine. No one says shit to foreigners having tattoos.”

“I guess. So how much did you take, José?” asked Masayoshi.

“Fifteen grams.”

“Dude what!? Your dad’s going to notice!”

“Notice what?” asked Goro. What in the world were these guys talking about? Grams? _What’s that smell? I thought we were here to smoke?_

“Missing weed,” said José, rolling up a joint. “It’s fine, Makkun. I calculated this carefully. He’s not going to care anyway as long the meth is in order.”

“Meth? And weed? As in… marijua-!?”

Hyun-Woo’s hand covered Goro’s mouth. “Say it loud for the world to hear why don’t ya?!”

“Sorry…”

Unreal. Goro traveled back in time to 1980’s Japan. He met his teenage father and got dragged to a riverbend to smoke pot with a bunch of delinquent-looking friends of Shido’s. This had to be a dream. Not only did this implicitly prove Shido consumed drugs as a kid, but that his circle of friends came from non-Japanese backgrounds. Absurd. Shido would never do such wild things.

Goro cursed his inquisitive nature. He had to know more. “How did you get that, José?”

José twisted the joint around a flame until a faint smoke escaped. “My dad’s a grunt in the yakuza. I was born in Brazil, but my family went to Japan when I was nine for a better opportunity since a lot of our Japanese Brazilian neighbors were invited back by the Japanese government.” He inhaled the homemade cigarette.

“Yakuza like big foreign guys,” added Masayoshi.

“Yeah, they like scary foreign men to do a lot of their intimidating. My dad fit that bill apparently, haha.”

“And you’re okay with this?” asked Goro.

José shrugged, passing the joint to Hyun-Woo. “It pays the bills and they treat him better in the yakuza than the civilians did when he had an honest low-paying job. As long as he’s happy.”

“His dad’s missing a pinky,” replied Hyun-Woo.

“And you’re a _zainichi_?”

Masayoshi smacked Goro upside the head. “Don’t be rude. Hyun-Woo has every right to be here.”

“Hey, don’t bully our senpai.” Hyun-Woo shoved Masayoshi away from Goro. “It’s all good, Tanaka. Yeah, I’m technically not a zainichi, but people call me one anyway. My family fled to Japan after the Koreas were split. They smelled trouble and got the fuck outta there.”

Goro stared hard at his drink. The illusion of Shido mingling among the rich, noble elite shattered into pieces. Shido’s sincerity towards his friends was the worst part. He joked and laughed, he poked and spoke carelessly around them. The genuine smile he wore was unlike anything he ever witnessed.

His heart ached.

Puffing twice, Masayoshi passed the blunt to Goro. “Don’t do too much. You’re already high enough as it is.”

“Says you,” snorted José. “Don’t you have practice today?”

“Nah, not on Fridays.”

Marijuana vapors flooded Goro’s nose. He had never smoked in his entire life. He grew up watching adults smoking, Shido included, and hated the habit. The stench penetrated into the atmosphere and clothes. Smokers’ breath stank to the high heavens, and their incessant need for a smoke break grated his patience. But he witnessed enough people doing it to imitate it convincingly. At least he thought he did.

Goro inhaled.

Hyun-Woo yawned, “What about your little bro?”

An unpleasant burn in his lungs caused his body to react in a fit of coughs. _Little bro?!_

“Hiroki’s at soccer practice.” Masayoshi patted hard over Goro’s back. “Breathe.”

“I’m…” Goro wheezed. “Trying!”

How embarrassing! Now he _really_ looked like an amateur, but why did he care? He wasn’t trying to impress Shido or his friends. Goro went with the flow to remove any suspicion, and if it meant for him to smoke illegal substances with them, then so be it! Until he had a way to go back to the present, he had to stick with them like glue.

The boys taught Goro how to properly smoke. He still managed to cough a few times, but Hyun-Woo said the response was normal to people who don’t smoke often. They smoked and chatted for a bit. When Hyun-Woo passed Goro the joint for a third hit, Masayoshi snatched it from Goro’s hand.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He returned the stick to José. “I can’t get too high either or else my old man will get mad.”

Ah, so Shido had a father, thought Goro. And it seemed his father resorted to anger rather than understanding. Though - Goro had to admit - any father would be upset if their child were consuming drugs. Regardless, maybe his grandfather was the type of man who beat his kids or instilled bad ideas. Maybe his grandmother was a woman who let her husband control her life and how she raised the children. A tyrannical patriarch.

That had to be it!

Goro opened his mouth to inquire about Shido’s father. “It’s… fast.” No, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. “It’s really fast.”

The boys giggled.

Goro lifted his left hand despite the world spinning at an accelerated rate. It was a hand - his hand - yet its movement felt surreal.

“Whoa…” José stared at Goro. “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“How are you moving like that?”

“I…” Goro twisted his hand. “I’m just doing it.”

“Guys, Tanaka’s doing it.” Masayoshi laughed. “He’s doing it.”

Goro laughed. “He said ‘it.’ But it’s too fast for you to say ‘it.’”

Nothing made sense yet managed to be crystal clear in comprehension. He knew exactly what to say, but what came out from his mouth was slowed, slurred drivel. His mind spun at the speed of light. As much as he wanted to move, the world wouldn’t stop revolving. Everything the guys said elicited a fit of giggles and ungainly snorting. His tongue was loose and tight at the same time.

_As long as I don’t talk about time travel, it’ll be fine!_

“What time is it?” asked Goro. They must have been under that bridge for hours!

Masayoshi looked at his watch. “Uhh…” Unable to verbalize the numbers, he pointed his watch to Goro. “It’s that time.”

Only a single hour had passed, yet it felt like the entire day was spent getting blitzed with a bunch of high schoolers from the 80s. How long would the sensation last? Being around Shido and his friends, talking about shallow things only to evolve into full-blown philosophy about science and the human condition and to come back down into more giggling was nice.

Goro liked it.

“Guys, I’m starving.” Hyun-Woo got up and tripped on his own feet. “Let’s go to WacDonald’s.”

“You can hardly walk,” said Masayoshi, the most sober of the group. “How the hell are we going to WacDonald’s?”

Goro’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in hours and the marijuana made it worse. His sobriety slowly returned at the thought of leaving the riverbend. After the food, what else would they do? Hell, where else _would_ he go? The guys had their own homes and families to return to, but him? Goro was an orphan trapped in a time period before his father met his mother. He had no one to go to, not even a grandparent or aunt. A pat to his back pocket reminded Goro he had no money - at least no bank notes from the 1980s.

How was he going to find a way back to the present?

“I can walk, ya know. The ground’s an incline.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go wash your face by the river. You too, Tanaka.”

 

 

Feet like lead, heart hesitant, Goro followed the boys to the WacDonald’s. Splashing his face helped wake him. However, the prospect of remaining in the past and growing up into it without any assets scared him enough to momentarily gain his senses.

Masayoshi lingered behind Goro as his friends cajoled ahead. When Goro paused to gaze at the horizon or the buildings, he caught up and patted him to move along. He lagged once Goro’s pace quickened and held Goro’s shoulder when crossing the streets.

At the WacDonald’s, Goro sat on a booth by the window while the rest went to order their food. With no cellphone - not that it mattered anyway since internet didn’t exist - Goro had nothing else to entertain himself except his thoughts. Having no desire to wallow in self-pity, Goro rummaged through his wallet for a spark of inspiration. Unfortunately, his money and debit card were worthless all because they technically could not exist. A 100 yen coin fell from his wallet.

“Coins were minted before the 80s… I can use this. Wait I don’t think I can use the ¥500 one. Damn.”

Goro gathered his loose change from his pockets and found he only had ¥350, enough for fries back in 2016. The prices of food were most likely different thirty years ago. Maybe it was enough for something bigger. But what would he do if he spent it all on one go?

_I’ll buy one item. Just a kid’s fry and the rest will go for something else._

Masayoshi sat next to Goro with his tray. “Here.” A small burger, large fry, and drink were placed in front of him.

Goro squeezed his eyes shut. Opening them changed nothing. He pinched his hand underneath the table, twisting the flesh to render the pain more obvious, visceral. It hurt all the same. Shido bought him a meal.

“I can’t accept this, Masayoshi-kun.” _Don’t make me accept it._

“Shut up and eat it.”

The needle prick behind his throat eased as the delicious aroma of cheap fast food wafted under his nose. Still feeling like the world spun as fast as the universe, Goro carefully grabbed a fry and ate it. Food never tasted so good.

Goro devoured his meal while the other three ate theirs with the same fervor. Shido ordered three burgers and a large fry for himself, while Hyun-Woo and José had one burger and two large fries. The effects of the drug remained in his system though it managed to simmer down with the time and food they ate.

“José, is your sister available this weekend?” asked Masayoshi, downing his second drink.

“Nah, Andressa’s working. You can always practice with my mom.”

_With José’s mom? What in the world does that mean?_

“I mean I could.” Masayoshi eyed Goro. “Maybe not though. I might have something come up this weekend.”

“Mom says you’re always welcome to practice your dancing any time.”

Goro dropped his burger. “Masayoshi-kun dances?”

Masayoshi’s face glowed red. “Y-yeah. My dad forced me to do it. What of it, huh?”

“Masayoshi does latin ballroom dancing after school,” said Hyun-Woo.

“Yes, he’s pretty good at it too.” José nodded. “You’re not going to get a better experience with latin dancing than to practice with people from Brazil. We can dance the pants off of anyone!” José stood up to dance a few steps, wriggling his hips around, inciting laughter at the table.

“You don’t seem like the type to be serious about that sort of thing,” Goro murmured.

“And why can’t I be the type?” Masayoshi scoffed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, _senpai_.”

True.

Had Shido not kept his past shrouded in mystery guarded by a clandestine web of lies and distrust, Goro would not be asking him all these questions. If the bastard had just accepted his mother and raised him as a son, Goro didn’t have to be stuck in the year 19-fucking-80 for the rest of his life.

“Show me then.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, dance the freaking samba in a WacDonald’s right now.” Goro rolled his eyes. “You know I meant later.”

“Whoa, senpai’s got a bite to him!” Hyun-Woo cheered. “Masayoshi’s gonna get eaten!”

“ _Fuck off_ ,” Masayoshi replied in English.

Four teenagers from a high school Goro recognized entered the establishment. Amazing how the bright and gaudy uniforms of Karukozaka High School were the same in the 80s. A tall student with an overly propped collar and flashy bracelets approached their table. “Well if it isn’t Shido and his chucklefuck friends. Where’s your other buddy?”

Masayoshi glared at the student. “Ishida’s in cram school.”

“At least one of you is doing something productive with their time,” the student laughed.

“He’s in cram school now because ya beat him up, dipshit,” snided Hyun-Woo.

“I wasn’t talking to you, _bakachon_.”

Hyun-Woo frowned. “I can buy all your families if I wanted to.”

“Shut the fuck up, stupid ass _asako_.”

Fists clenched, Masayoshi glared at the boy.

His menacing stare extended to the others, a warning to the guy’s buddies. The other Karukozaka students looked at one another, bit their lips and whispered concerns.

“Yoneda, just leave them alone,” one said without any physical attempts to stop him.

Why they didn’t try to stop their friend was beyond Goro’s comprehension, but he had an inkling why they stood back and let their friend start his own funeral.

“Apologize to him,” Masayoshi growled.

Hyun-Woo’s eyes shifted to José. They knew the situation could sour at any moment. If Masayoshi weren’t still baked, he would have taken Yoneda outside for a “chat.”

“I’m not apologizing to this zainichi. Or to you. I did your friend a favor and you should do the same.” Yoneda peered at Goro. “Who’s the pretty boy? Your brother?”

“Leave him out it if you know what’s good for you.”

“I should give your brother the same lesson I gave to Ishida. Maybe then he won’t end up a total failure like you.”

Rather than raise his hand or give a snarky comeback. Shido’s gritted teeth transformed into a simple smile. Not a hint of anger or disdain. Just a smile.

José and Hyun-Woo were all too familiar with that smile. Goro too.

“Know what? You do that Yoneda. My little brother shouldn’t wind up like me.”

Yoneda smirked. “You’re so pathetic, Shido.” And walked away with his group.

Masayoshi remained quiet while the boys hung around the restaurant. José and Hyun-Woo continued to speak in hushed voices and Goro listened, unable to say anything. How could Goro talk anyway? Masayoshi’s face, though eyes still red from the reefer, was blank. He watched the rival gang joke and eat, brain working a thousand kilometers an hour. Yoneda would turn to see their table, and Masayoshi’s face instantly lit up with a grin. Hand waved playfully. A cheeky wink.

When the Karukozaka boys left the establishment, Masayoshi waited a few minutes until the students were out of sight.

“José.” His body hunched close to the table, voice low. “Sell me three grams.”

“What are you planning, Makkun?”

“Sell it to me.”

Goro’s heart pounded against his chest. Was Shido going to do what he thought? If he was, then Goro found the Shido he knew and despised. Though something about the situation felt more like righteous retribution rather than acting out of spite. From what he gathered, this Yoneda guy hurt a good friend of theirs, blatantly said racist terms, and threatened to target Shido’s brother. What would Goro do in a situation like this? Would he speak to Yoneda to assess their current relationship or would he get revenge? He had no idea if Shido did anything bad to Yoneda either. But at the same time, he just didn’t know what to do. In the orphanage he had to fight or be cannibalized by the children. While well-behaved, Goro resorted to violence and sneaky plotting against his bullies. Adults didn’t protect him when he tattled, so he had to do it himself to minimize the risk of pain and humiliation.

A dog eat dog world.

“Masayoshi-kun…”

“Don’t bother, Tanaka,” said Hyun-Woo. “Once Masayoshi gets an idea, that’s it.”

“I’ll give you the hook up later, Makkun.”

Masayoshi winked. “Good. I gotta make some arrangements for this.”

“Guys, I’m higher than I thought I was.” Hyun-Woo rested his head against his hand. “I think I need to call my chauffeur.”

“Your chauffeur’s a narc,” said Masayoshi.

“Yeah, but I can hardly walk. I don’t feel so fast anymore, but damn I don’t got the strength. My legs are jelly, ya get me?”

“You have a chauffeur?” asked Goro.

“Oh yeah, my parents are rich. Communism and all that didn’t settle well with their families so, yeah, that’s why I’m in Japan now. I’ll deal with my chauffeur ratting me out later. For all he knows, I’m just being a lazy slob.”

“I have to head out too,” said José. “It was nice meeting you, Tanaka-kun. Let’s meet again.”

“Likewise.” Goro smiled. Despite their differences and backgrounds, those two were good people. Interesting how Shido surrounded himself with such folks.

So this is where they were going to depart, huh? Everyone had a home to go to. A family to enjoy. A meal to share. Goro thought about the night and where he would sleep. Three hundred fifty yen was not enough to get him a hotel room anywhere. Not even a love hotel. He wondered if manga cafes existed in 1980 since they were cheap in his present time. Water and shelter were the only necessities he required to stay alive.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Masayoshi asked. José and Hyun-Woo departed their ways minutes prior.

“Ah…”

He could not tell Shido his predicament. Aside from the embarrassment, he loathed to bother anyone, even if they were a person he despised. But… he didn’t hate Masayoshi. He almost seemed like a different person to the Shido from his time. Then again, Goro had no idea of Masayoshi’s home situation. His parents and brother could be the worst humans on the planet full of rotten teachings and selfish desires. Let Masayoshi go back to that black pit of a home. The streets were far less toxic than the Shido household.

“Yes, well...” Why did he hesitate? Why did it hurt to tell Masayoshi a lie? “I have to go home.”

Masayoshi’s neutral expression bored into his eyes. Not a word, only a glance.

A cold sensation ran down Goro’s body.

“I have an errand to run. Let’s go.”

“An errand?”

“Yeah, you heard what I was talking about earlier right? I know you were a bit stoned but it’s easing up. I know you heard me.”

_Are we really going to do this?_

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.”

_Says you!_ To prolong the loneliness for a little longer, Goro agreed and followed Masayoshi to a park.

 

 

The afternoon sun shone yet its intensity lessened as it began to set. Goro and Masayoshi entered deep into the park past the playgrounds and gazebos and into a quiet, open area with benches and a developed path.

Motorcycles lined the space with several females wearing long uniform skirts, and wielded kendo sticks and baseball bats. They spoke amongst another, giggling at their gossip and talked about the latest movies and things they saw at the mall. The girls noticed the boys approaching their area. Bodies guarded, eyes suspicious. The lead _sukeban_ patted a girl on her motorcycle before grabbing her bat, taking a defensive stance between her girls and the two males.

“Hey- Oh it’s _you_ ,” she huffed. “What’s up, son of a bitch?”

“Not much, cunt.”

Well that was quite the introduction, thought Goro. If weed didn’t kill him, these girls certainly would, and they weren’t the type to hold back either.

The sukeban sauntered over, bat swinging casually then pointed to Masayoshi. “Where’s the goods?”

The girl on the motorcycle came to her side, dropping her cigarette to snuff it out with her foot. She wrapped a protective arm around her leader.

Goods? Was this about drugs again? Did Shido deal drugs with delinquent girls in a motorcycle gang? This was a bit much for Goro to swallow. First the friends, now the lady maybe-friends? By the posture the girls were fronting, they didn’t look like they were on good terms.

“My cousin sent the package two weeks ago. You know how slow mail from America is.”

He’s sending drugs through the mail!? His stupid ass was going to get caught! Didn’t Shido care about his future? How in the world did he become such a powerful politician with that sort past? Loki must have sent him to a parallel universe instead of the true past.

“Great!” The leader giggled. “My girl and I had an amazing time with the last shipment.”

The girl kissed her leader’s cheek.

Masayoshi smirked. “You should have invited me.”

“Hell no, pervert. You’re not invited to our private fun time. If you want to model your dick, you can do that when we need you for our doujinshi.”

Wait what? Pervert? What were they talking about? And why did they mention doujinshi? This was supposed to be about drugs!

“Fine, fine.” Masayoshi sighed, hands in his pockets. “I get it, I get it.” His face turned serious. “Remember that payment I asked for, Mimi?”

“Yes. I still owe you.”

“You owe me a shitton. My business ain’t a charity.”

“Get on with it, Masa. What do you want?”

“I need you to plant some dank on someone from Karukozaka. I know you have girls there.”

Mimi’s girl whistled.

“You want us to do _that_ for you? That’s chump change, but alright.”

_Chump change!? How was this favor considered easy?_

“Is that your bro there?” Mimi asked. “He’s pretty cute. If he was a girl, I’d eat him up.”

“All you think about is eating pussy,” Masayoshi scoffed.

“You’re one to talk.”

“You got me there.” He shrugged, not at all bothered by her comeback. “I’ll give you deets tomorrow. You better answer your fucking phone this time.”

“Yeah, yeah. If I’m not too busy with my girl, you’ll hear from me.”

“Horny slut.”

“Horny bastard.”

“Shut up. See you in class tomorrow.”

“See ya, Masa.”

Another delinquent girl walked up to Masayoshi and placed a rumbled note deep in his trouser pocket. “If Mimi nee-san doesn’t answer, then you can always call me~” She licked her lips before walking back to her group.

Even in his youth, Shido had game. Some things never changed. Goro briefly wondered if his father had any girlfriends in middle school. How many hearts did he steal and crush beneath his feet?

Masayoshi walked in silence to the playground. He sat on a swing, the sun still bright in the horizon. Goro joined on the swing next to his.

He smiled at Goro. “I didn’t want to say it so close to their hearing range. Those girls have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Say what?”

“That Mimi’s a damn good friend of mine. If she needed my help, I’d be there no questions asked.”

Goro chuckled. “Why is that a secret?”

“Because she’d rub that in. Can’t let her have any ammo, you know?”

Boy did Goro know.

“What kind of goods were you supplying her?” May as well ask. The worse Shido would do it tell him nothing or to fuck off. Masayoshi had a magnetic effect on the people around him, Goro included. He couldn’t help but fall for his wiles and charms.

“Uncensored porn and western music.”

Goro’s face fell. “What? Really? That’s it? I thought it was something more… illegal.”

“Look, I can’t be dealing drugs to everyone. Honestly, I don’t even deal that shit. I only do that to fuck around with some people. Yoneda’s a bastard and I’m not gonna let him hurt my brother.”

“But porn…”

“Hey there’s a big demand for uncensored western porn. My cousin in America supplies, I deliver. Be it nudies or VHS. And of course, music is always a hot item. I give my cousin Japanese music and anime, he gives me porn and English music. It’s a fair trade.”

“Anime?”

“Yeah, he loves that stuff, but he also makes copies and sells it in conventions. Makes a killer profit too.”

“So, you were giving those delinquents porn?”

“And music. That girl with Mimi? That’s her girlfriend. Them and a few of those girls made a doujinshi circle so they want uncensored magazines and porn for references. They’ve been selling at comiket for a few years now.”

Friends with a female classmate and a pact with a motorcycle sukeban group. Masayoshi was incredible, but that didn’t change anything. Good friends were a positive aspect in his life, however, it wouldn’t be enough to chisel his terrible upbringing completely. The Shido from his time was an elitist and only cared about himself. The Masayoshi of the past showed signs of this behavior through his dealings, though… he didn’t seem all that bad? Maybe Shido’s father beat the elitism hard into his son. Or maybe Masayoshi pretended to be humble and accepting.

That had to be it.

The setting sun reminded Goro of his predicament. His head lowered, mind preoccupied with his fate. Every time he pinched himself, it hurt. Goro travelled to the past thanks to Loki, and there were no signs of a way to go back. With no internet, he could not use the metaverse app and summon Loki to force answers from his Persona. Either way it mattered little since his he left his phone on Shido’s couch in 2016.

What was he going to do? Wait it out? He’d be fifty-four years old - literally Shido’s peer - if he waited chose to conform to this terrible fate.

“Come have dinner with me,” Masayoshi said.

Goro startled. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. Come to my house. My little brother won’t bite, I promise.”

“Masayoshi-kun, I don’t know-”

“Are you turning down my generosity?”

“Of course not! I just don’t know if I should?”

“What? Don’t be stupid, Tanaka. Let’s go.” He flicked his wristwatch. “Hmm dad shouldn’t be home yet. That’s good.”

_What did he mean by that?_

“Hurry up or I’ll drag your ass the entire way if I have to.”

Goro didn’t want to see the nightmare that was Shido’s childhood home. Masayoshi gave reason to fear his father through that comment. What if his grandfather physically abused his family and didn’t care if strangers witnessed it? Perhaps his wife encouraged the behavior and uttered disparaging comments to the victim as her husband whipped and punched.

Horrible, horrible people.

Goro sighed. The things he had to do to avoid being alone in the streets. “I’m coming, Masayoshi-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> llegal shenanigans aside, I wonder what Shido's homelife is like.
> 
> Zainichi: Korean immigrants living in Japan before 1945 and their descendants. Anyone afterwards are considered something else.  
> Bakachon: A Japanese racial slur geared towards Koreans, essentially calling them idiots.  
> Asako: Another Japanese slur for Koreans.  
> Sukeban: Female delinquent. Typically it refers to the leader of the delinquent group. They have a specific aesthetic wearing very long uniform skirts.  
> Gakuran: Male Japanese uniform. It's not exactly a western blazer, but it's distinctly Japanese. Still used in some schools in Japan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck in time, Goro enters the Shido household and meets Masayoshi's family.  
> Could they be the clue to Shido's corruption?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write. Took me some time to think about, but hopefully it came out well.  
> Thank you for your support and kudos. I appreciate them a lot.  
> And it turned out that I underestimated what I wanted to cover, so instead of two chapters, there will be three.
> 
> Anything in **bold** are characters using another language.

Journeying to the Shido residence took less time than Goro thought. After the scare with the female motorcycle gang, Goro worried he’d never see the end of the day.

Masayoshi remained quiet, calculating, as he led Goro to a small conbini. He bought two chilled colas - one for him and the other for Goro - and a kinder egg before welcoming the new kid to his abode. The sun remained on the horizon, its intensity decreasing by the passing minute.

“Ugh,” groaned Masayoshi at the foot of the door. “Here’s hoping my dad isn’t home.”

Goro clamped internally. Here was the moment of truth! Grandfather Shido and the origin of the monster that was Masayoshi Shido. Goro needed this affirmation.

“I’m home!” yelled Masayoshi. Shoes removed at the genkan with his heels, he downed the rest of his drink, setting the glass bottle into a tray with other empty bottles for reuse.

“Welcome home!” replied a young boy’s voice.

“Thank fuck it’s just you!”

A boy - middle school maybe - swung from a corner. He was a head shorter than Masayoshi with longer hair and plum eyes. Judging by the bright smile and mischievous sparkling eyes, Goro deduced the younger brother had a lighter disposition compared to Masayoshi’s aggressive. Though something about the boy’s eyes suggested a familiarity Goro couldn’t pinpoint. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Yosh?”

He had an accent too.

“Dad’s not home, right?”

“No- Gross! Did you smoke again?”

Masayoshi smelled his collar. “Is it that obvious?”

“Ye-Whoa!” The little brother did a double take when he noticed Goro standing next to Masayoshi. “Why does he have your face, Yosh? Is he a cousin of ours? Mom- no wait they’re mainly in Illinois. Dad’s side?”

“No clue. Just some third year I found at school and smoked with. He’s cool.”

“What!? Why didn’t you invite me?” he pouted.

Masayoshi ruffled the boy’s head. “Because you had soccer practice, idiot.”

“But you have dance!”

“Not on Fridays.” Masayoshi pulled out the kinder egg. “Here.”

The boy held the chocolate close, giddy from the gift and the possible toy the treat contained. “Ooh, thanks big bro!”

“Don’t be rude.” He patted his brother’s back. “Introduce yourself.”

Masayoshi’s brother smiled sheepishly. “I’m Hiroki! Nice to meet you, senpai!”

_I have an uncle! I have an uncle! Oh god I have an uncle!_

“My name is Tanaka Goro.”

Hiroki arched an eyebrow. “Tanaka...? That sounds so fake.”

If Goro were not a good liar, his skeleton would have jumped out of his skin and run for the hills. Instead he flashed his trademark Detective Prince smile, throat constricted and dry, and said, “What’s wrong with my name?”

Masayoshi slapped Hiroki upside the head. “What did I just say about not being rude?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hiroki apologized with a curt bow, rubbing his head. “I’m just, I dunno? Excited about senpai?”

“Me?” Goro pointed at himself. Why would anyone be excited about him, especially in 1980? Did his resemblance to Masayoshi intrigue the younger Shido? But no one else thought too hard on it. Not José or Hyun-Woo. Did his uncle like him? It was too soon for Hiroki to make that sort of decision!

Hiroki peeled the kinder egg’s foil, tore a piece and nibbled the chocolate. “Why can’t I be excited to meet a new friend?”

He got him there.

“Wanna see me play?” Hiroki grinned, grabbing Goro’s hand and pulling him towards the living area. “I’m in a band with Yosh. Let’s go!”

“S-sure?” Goro allowed his uncle to take him to where ever, followed by Masayoshi chuckling at his younger brother’s enthusiasm.

Hiroki led Goro into the garage. An electric guitar and a drum set rested there, undusted and worn from its frequent use. His uncle turned on the amp and connected it to his guitar. With a pick, he strummed the instrument, gauging its tune and adjusted as he played a simple shred. When he finished, he looked up to Goro, thrilled.

“And that’s just me tuning the old guitar! Wait ‘til you hear me actually play!” Hiroki nodded to Masayoshi. “Yosh, get on the drums.”

“You play?” asked Goro. He never in his wildest dreams ever thought Shido as the musical sort. Always rigid and stalwart, nary a sliver of whimsy or appreciation for the arts. The teenager could not be the same man he knew in the future.

Then again, he didn’t expect Shido to be an excellent dancer either.

“Yeah, I did bass until Hiroki’s drummer friend left. I do the drums now.”

“Mom got sooo mad when he did!” Hiroki laughed.

“Why?” asked Goro.

Masayoshi sat behind the drums, examining the position of the cymbals. “Ugh, it’s so stupid too.”

Hiroki snickered, hand hiding his teeth.

“I don’t get it?” Why were they not saying anything? It couldn’t possibly be that bad. Though he wondered about his grandmother. By the look of things, the two brothers practiced non-traditional music. Typically parents would be proud over classic instruments like the violin or piano. During his childhood, Goro knew many students who had to attend lessons for them. The only instrument he ever learned was the recorder.

But an electric guitar? Bass? Drums? Those were for rock music! Or genres strict parents would find vulgar and loud. For Masayoshi and Hiroki to practice and own those instruments, their parents had to be okay with it. Maybe grandma and grandpa Shido had an appreciation for the style of music?

No, that’s impossible. A man like Masayoshi Shido could not be into rock. Absurd! Ludicrous! Masayoshi Shido listened to boring music like opera or piano concert stuff like Beethoven or Mozart, or the traditional Japanese music like _enka_.

Rock music was - for a lack of a better term - too cool for Shido.

Masayoshi rolled his eyes. “Mom was excited when I agreed to play the bass for Hiroki’s band. She loved it.”

“Buuuuuuut…” teased Hiroki.

“But when I changed to drums, she got pissed. She yelled at me for it.”

“That’s rather harsh…” said Goro. What an unreasonable woman.

“Tell me about it. She was so angry I suddenly became ‘the Ringo.’”

Goro shook his head. Did he hear that correctly? The Ringo? What? “What’s ‘the Ringo?’ Like apple?”

Hiroki nearly dropped his guitar. “Dude, what?”

Oh, was it a bad response? Did he fail to understand some pop culture reference everyone in the 80s knew? If this were the thing to out him as a time traveller then so be it. At least Masayoshi would assume the drugs were speaking, right? Did weed cause that sort of thing?

Too much happening at once and so little time to absorb the information.

“The Beatles,” Masayoshi answered, sarcastic. “My mom loves Paul. A lot.”

Goro wished he cared about The Beatles but couldn’t find himself to bother either. He figured Paul was the bassist by the mother’s response, and Ringo had to be the drummer. He hoped he was right with his assessment. The Beatles were mega-popular back in the day and for Goro to not know anything may have appeared snobbish or uncultured in front of two teenagers living in The Beatles’ aftermath.

“Oh!” Goro feigned surprise. “It can’t be that bad to be the Ringo.”

“My mom saw it as a betrayal.” Masayoshi shrugged, foot tapped on the bass drum pedal. A low beat echoed. “But whatever, she got over it after a while. I reminded her it made me like the leader.”

“Are not!” Hiroki snapped.

“Are too.”

“I’m the leader, Yosh! I’m the one playing lead guitar!”

“Go study up on music theory then. If you were shit but I was fine, people wouldn’t notice so much. But if I sucked, everyone would hate the music. I’m the one pulling the strings in the background.”

“Drums lay the rhythm…” murmured Goro.

Masayoshi pointed a stick towards Goro, smirking. “See, Tanaka gets it.”

Hiroki stuck out his tongue. “I’m still the leader.”

“Whatever, just play.” Masayoshi clacked the drum sticks together and struck the drums. It was the cue for Hiroki to begin the song.

Awestruck, the garage surrounded itself with the energetic sounds coming from the brothers. Despite his untrained ears, Goro could tell Hiroki had a good sense for the guitar though there had been a few missed notes. That didn’t matter though because Masayoshi was right: all of Hiroki’s errors vanished thanks to Masayoshi’s percussions. A nearly flawless beat and rhythm, Masayoshi’s drumming incited a passion inside Goro. Like the street performers in the bustling streets of Shibuya, the drums lifted the people’s spirits. Every clash, every strike, every impact called out and influenced not only the guitarist, but Goro as well. He wanted to scream out to the music! To sing! To dance! To clap and praise!

No wonder Masayoshi chose to switch to drums.

Hiroki wiped his forehead with his shirt. “What did you think?”

“You guys were… really good.”

“Really!?” Hiroki bubbled. “Honest? You mean it?”

Goro couldn’t help but to smile at his uncle. So eager to impress. “I mean it. You two are great. Have you thought about going pro?”

“I have!”

“Not me,” said Masayoshi. He removed his gakuran, the heat of the garage grating him.

“But you’re amazing!” blurted Goro. He meant it too.

Masayoshi flashed a shy smile. “You flatter me, but I’m doing it for fun, and for Hiroki. I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”

“I’ll be rich and famous without you, Yosh,” said Hiroki. “And I’ll get a better drummer.”

“If it ain’t Keith Moon, you’re never getting someone better than me.” Masayoshi ruffled Hiroki’s hair. “Let’s eat something before Mom and Dad return.”

“We still have Dad’s curry. Come on, Goro-senpai!” Hiroki laid his guitar on a bench and ran into the main home.

The cool indoor air rushed through when Hiroki hurried inside, a welcomed respite from the stuffy garage. Goro sighed in relief from the draft. Masayoshi held the door open and beckoned with his head.

“Let’s go, Tanaka.”

 

 

The brothers raided the refrigerator, pushing and shoving to savor the cold breeze. Goro laughed at their bickering and lighthearted jabs. He expected a cruel sibling relationship, full of malice, jealousy, and unhealthy rivalry. Instead when the Shido brothers argued, they laughed it off. Masayoshi’s hand often found itself on Hiroki’s head, and Hiroki’s wide eyes and gleaming smile gazed to his elder in admiration. As disappointed as Goro longed to be at the discovery, his heart refused to let himself fall into despair and melted at Masayoshi’s warmth for his little brother.

Still.

His heart hurt.

Hiroki presented Goro a spoon. “For you!”

What a cheerful kid. How was he related to Shido?

The three ate reheated curry. It wasn’t Leblanc curry, but it was incredible! The flavors exploded in his mouth. The spiciness, though slightly hotter than he was used to, felt good. It hadn’t burned like the awful Russian roulette takoyaki he ate at the Shujin school festival. A bite, pleasant with the right amount of heat mixed with fresh spices, chicken, and vegetables. The potatoes were a bit on a thick side, however they were seasoned well and weren’t undercooked. Overall the curry was excellent. Goro wouldn’t mind seconds if offered.

“This is delicious…” Goro scooped another spoonful.

Hiroki licked his lips. “Dad made it.”

“He cooks?”

Masayoshi nodded. “Hiroki, I forgot to get something at the conbini. Need something?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Alright, I’ll be back.” Masayoshi left.

“I’m home!” a woman’s voice crowed about ten minutes after Masayoshi’s departure.

“ **Welcome home!** ” chirped Hiroki in English.

Their mother arrived home. _His_ grandmother. A million thoughts ran through Goro’s head. Did she come from the grocery store? Run errands? Participated in community events with all the free time she had?

Excited, Hiroki skipped to the doorway to greet his mother.

Unsure whether to share his uncle’s enthusiasm, Goro opted to stay in the kitchen to avoid his grandmother. If Masayoshi were present, he’d feel more at ease with meeting her. Or so he told himself.

“I smell curry,” she said, voice heavily accented, more so than Hiroki’s. “I hope you left some for me.”

“Uh…maybe?” replied Hiroki.

“I knew! I just knew it!” Her footsteps grew closer. Each step a tick of a bomb, a looming threat. Any second would be the last before its detonation.

Heart pounding. Chest at the brink of bursting. The sound of blood rushing through his ears, Goro grabbed the empty plate and placed it in the sink. Cool water splashed over the plate, the remnants of the curry disappeared. Breathing muscles struggled to suck in air.

“Masayoshi!” the woman’s voice chided. “Why didn’t you welcome me home?”

Goro inhaled hard. As long as he stared at the water, all would be well. She would leave him alone and he’d survive the ordeal.

“... **Sweetheart**?”

A gentle hand touched his head, fingers combing through his soft tresses. It was nothing like his own mother’s caresses when Goro was a child. Not even when he was sick had his mother touched him in this manner.

It was…

Better.

Masayoshi’s mother’s touch, though firm, held a softness Goro never experienced. A tinge of concern lingered in her loving hands. One who nursed sick children and held their hands during outings, and on the way to school. Hands which built and reared the family through strife and wealth.

Goro couldn’t bear to see her face.

But his grandmother had other plans when she gripped Goro’s shoulder and turned his body to face her.

Taken aback was not enough. There had to be a stronger word for what Goro felt when he gazed upon his grandmother’s warm eyes. They resembled Masayoshi’s in color and determination, however the depth of love went far beyond her son’s. A hardened woman through the passage of time. A woman who lived through the aftermaths of the war. Who was this woman and why did Goro want to embrace her?

“You’re not… Masayoshi,” she said.

Goro swallowed. His throat stung. “I’m not.”

She lifted his chin, angled it to get a better look at the boy who resembled her eldest son. Soft features which would later become fierce once in his twenties. The same nose. Despite the difference in shade, the eyes held the same shape and intelligence. By all accounts the boy before her _was_ her son. Just slightly shorter and had bangs and the cowlick pointed down rather than up like Masayoshi’s.

Cupping his face, his grandmother stroked Goro’s cheeks with her thumbs. Uncanny. Simply uncanny. Did she forget about a pregnancy or was this an illusion or a cruel joke her sons were playing her?

“Are you…” she began. “Are you… ah- forget it. I’m just...” Her hands remained on Goro’s face. Her critical eyes welled up with tears.

Throat raw from the bladed knot, Goro longed to tell her everything. This was not the woman he imagined. Please do not be the woman he selfishly imagined!

“Mom?” asked Masayoshi at the kitchen door.

“Masayoshi?” She turned to face her son, then turned back to Goro. Her hands pinched his cheeks. She could not get enough of him. “Who is this, **sweetheart**?”

“A friend I made today.”

“He’s so…”

“Are you crying?” Masayoshi frowned, glaring at Goro. “What did you do to her?”

There was the Shido he knew. The look he gave Goro at the idea of him harming his mother, telling her things her sweet, amicable self shouldn’t hear. Curse words? Violence? Sex? None of it should be said in front of Masayoshi’s kind mother. “N-noth-”

“I’m a grown woman, Masayoshi!” Her tenderness transformed into an oni. Flames and lightning radiated from her body. “And you STINK! What have I told you about **Mary Jane**!?”

“It was just a few puffs, Mom!”

“You think I care!?” She pointed a menacing finger at Masayoshi. Unsatisfied, she opened a drawer and pulled out a chef’s knife. Masayoshi continued to lean on the doorway, unfazed as his mother stepped closer.

Was this a normal thing for their household?

“You should be at practice, not smoking **weed**.”

“I don’t have practice on Fridays! You know this already!”

“Wait, it’s Friday?” She lowered the knife and tapped her chin. “Oh, that’s right. Okay, well don’t get caught because I’m not going to bail your ass out of jail if the police catch you. I work too long and hard for that.”

“ **Hey**!”

“Don’t you **hey** me, young man. Now go shower before your father smells you. I seriously hope you weren’t trying to corrupt this beautiful boy over here.”

“I’m not corrupting him…” he mumbled. “Just wanted to him to join me for a smoke”

Goro gulped. He didn’t expect his grandmother to be so animated. She certainly didn’t behave like a housewife or a Japanese woman of the time. Demure when she approached him, her fiery personality roared when challenged by her son. Her height became like a tower, rigid and oversaw everyone and everything. Unmoving and steadfast.

“Did you offer him anything to eat? Drink? I didn’t raise you in a barn!”

“ **Chicago** may as well been a barn.”

“ **Watch your mouth,** ” she said in English. “ **You get so excited when there’re guests you act like a brat. Shape up.** ”

“ **Yes, ma’am.** ” Masayoshi quietly smiled back at her.

His grandmother seemed to have a penchant for speaking English as a code language. Goro could read and understand English fairly well, however his pronunciation was lacking. Masayoshi spoke it like a native.

_I wonder if he can still speak English in the current year? Does he… still speak with his mother? His family? This is too much._

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked Goro. Like instinct, her hand found itself back on Goro’s face.

“Ah… I am. I apologize for uh-”

“Please don’t apologize.” She smiled, radiant. “I can tell you’re a good boy. What’s your name?”

“Tanaka Goro.”

“Goro…” she murmured. Blinking, a tear rolled down her cheek. Feet tiptoed until her hovered lips kissed his forehead. His grandmother laughed awkwardly and wiped the tear away. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“I’m… gonna shower then,” replied Masayoshi, face unreadable. “You can hang out with Hiroki, Tanaka.”

“I’ll make dinner then,” Grandmother said with a longing stare, then a glare to Masayoshi. “You’re damn well lucky I like this guest. It’s _your_ turn to make dinner after all.”

“So you’ve figured out my plan.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“ **Get outta here you damn brat** ,” she said. Harsh as her words were, she laughed and kissed her son on both cheeks before ruffling his head, pushing him towards the bathroom.

  


Masayoshi went to shower while Hiroki escorted Goro into a bedroom covered with makeshift blueprints on the walls. Several odd devices were distributed all over. One device contained two wheels, another with various knobs and buttons. Scattered around were dismantled old-fashioned tape recorders, tubings, a broken toaster, random appliance motors, and a large tool kit. Beside the window, a desk with three lamps, a poseable magnifying glass, rulers, graph papers, and a soldering kit.

This couldn’t be Masayoshi’s room, could it?

“This is my room!” Hiroki beamed. Like a toddler, Hiroki eagerly gathered a few gadgets to show to Goro. He dumped them on his bed and patted an empty part of the mattress.

Goro complied.

“You want some of my kinder egg?” When Goro shook his head, Hiroki plopped the rest into his mouth and pointed to a shelf with cassettes. “Yosh likes to sell the western music our cousin supplies, but he also has a small business with making mixtapes. He’s okay with technology but _I’m_ way better.”

“So you make mixtapes for Masayoshi-kun?”

Goro hoped he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Mixtapes? What in the world were those? The 80s were a weird time and Goro wanted out before it slapped him with stranger concepts. He missed the simple things like food blogs and selfies.

“Yup! I tinkered with some old machines and made it better. Mixes faster but doesn’t affect the quality. I’d say makes it better. Yosh gives me a cut when I help him out too.”

“Don’t fall for his tricks!” he wanted to say, the words stuck in his throat. Shido never did things selflessly. There had to be an ulterior motive. Hiroki needed to be careful or else his older brother would use him until he rung dry.

Goro bit his lip. The paranoid thoughts pervaded, seeping into the deeper recesses of his mind. He had to stay as objective and calm as possible. Maybe he overthought it too much. Maybe Masayoshi truly treasured his brother’s contributions and gave him the rightful credit. His bartering with his cousin seemed equal at a glance. With Hiroki it wouldn’t be any different, if not fairer as Hiroki was his brother.

“You two are pretty… close.”

“Yeah!” His smile bursting with elation. “Yosh is the best! He has his bad moments, but really, who doesn’t? I can always count on him to help me.”

“Bad side? Does he hit you?”

“What two brothers don’t fight?” Hiroki shrugged. “But just between you and me? He hits me because I’m the one who starts it.”

“Oh Hiroki…” What a monster! He gaslighted his own little brother to believe he was at fault for the beatings. “You don’t have to say that. I understand.”

“No seriously, I’m the one who rough-houses with him first. Sometimes I go into his room and hit him with a pillow or knock him over when he goes gargoyle.”

 _Gargoyle?_ “Well you can’t be that bad.”

“One time he was getting ready for school and I jumped on his back. He almost fell down the stairs because of it.” He rubbed his left arm. “I really deserved that arm-punch.”

“You think?” Goro blurted. “And you’re still doing that?”

“N-no!” Hiroki shook his head in fervor. “I swear I stopped bugging him like a long time ago! We still kinda fight but I stopped being so rough. I believe me, senpai. I promise!”

He leered. “You’d better.”

Such a strange feeling to defend Shido. One moment, he prodded to bolster his monster theory, the next Goro drew his blade and shield to protect him from his little gremlin of a brother. Shido’s no-nonsense personality made sense now.

Still.

Something about his uncle didn’t sit well with him. Not the personality or anything like that - if anything Goro thought Hiroki’s naivete was adorable. Yet the sense of familiarity grew larger the more he spoke to him. What was it about his uncle that brought those feelings?

“Heh.” Hiroki wiggled his eyebrows, knees brought to his chin. “You reminded me of Yosh just there. It’s really cool.”

“Huh?”

“I know my bro may look bad but he’s really patient with me. Even when he hits me, he pulls his punches.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen him beat up people, so I know.” He hugged his legs. “I… I got made fun of a lot because of the way I talk.”

“But you sound fine?”

“Yosh says that too.” Hiroki smiled timidly. “We spent many summers in Chicago growing up. But I caught the accent a lot harder than bro did. And even though I don’t visit America as much now, being here surrounded by Japanese people and Japanese media, I can’t seem to shake it off. Mom’s accent is thicker, but she doesn’t care about people’s opinions.”

“But you do.”

“Yeah… I do,” he sighed.

“If it means anything, at least you can speak more than one language fluently. It’s more than what I can speak.”

A spark ignited in his uncle eye. “You’re right!” Head held high, vigor renewed. “Dad says that puts me ahead of other people when I start applying for jobs, but I didn’t believe him.”

“But when _I_ say it it’s right?”

“Absolutely!”

Goro laughed. What a funny, sweet kid. Who would have ever thought someone like Hiroki could be related to Shido? Not Goro.

“Let’s go over here.” Hiroki led Goro into a bedroom full of Gundam figures, a television and Atari, and a cage on top of a drawer.

“This is Yosh’s room,” said Hiroki, fiddling with a Gundam on a shelf.

“Why are we here if he went to shower?”

“To mess with him.” He grinned. “Besides, I wanted to play Alien Invaders and Forneus 1988. He’s the oldest so he gets the second TV in his room, but we have to share. It’s not fair! He doesn’t even use it that much!”

“So he likes Mobile Suit Gundam huh?”

“Yosh _loves_ it. He likes Char Aznable the best.”

Shido’s interest in old anime was hilarious to Goro. An ambitious, cruel man being fond of something so childish, and yet it fit. The Gundam series tended to have plots tied around politics and the military. It made sense for Shido to like it. He did, after all, scheme his way into becoming the Prime Minister of Japan. Goro wondered if he had the same dream as a teenager too.

“Hey, Hiroki?”

“Yes, senpai?”

“If Masayoshi-kun didn’t shower and your dad came home… would there be trouble?”

Hiroki shook his head. “No. He’d get more in trouble with Mom than Dad.”

“Then why keep mentioning him?”

“Well…” His uncle nodded his head to himself, deep in thought. Was there a proper way to word what he knew? “Not that it’s complicated but it’s really all Yosh’s problems.”

“I’m not sure I understand?”

“Uh, it’s more like Yosh doesn’t want to see Dad be disappointed. Sometimes he does things but doesn’t want Dad to know. Like he cares about his opinion but doesn’t, but still does. If that makes any sense.”

Goro never had anyone to disappoint. By the time his mother died, he was too young to be considered a disappointment to anyone. And yet… despite lacking a stable household, Goro wanted to be praised and gain attention. He studied and obeyed the rules. No one could call him a cursed child or a disappointment - bastard or not.

“I think I get it?”

Unconvinced, Hiroki continued. “Yosh used to get in a lot of fights back in middle school. Even in his first year of high school he got into a few. Mom and Dad were really tired of it so they thought of a punishment for him.”

Goro’s ears perked.

Punishment? That sounded interesting. Possibly the reason why he became such an awful person. Parents who held him back from his rebellious fist fighting - well honestly they did a good job to stop him from fighting. Just who in their right mind was happy to have a delinquent for a son? Considering his grandmother waved a knife at Masayoshi only to smother him with a foreigner-like kisses afterwards seemed a little jarring at best. Mixed messages to the casual eye, loud and clear to Masayoshi and his brother though.

“What did they do?” Goro asked, stone-faced. He tried his best to hold back the excitement in his voice. This could prove to be effective blackmail.

Hiroki sat next to Goro, voice low. “They made him do that ballroom dancing stuff. But, ah, well, big bro didn’t wanna do it and tried to skip out on classes. So… my dad was laid off at the time and every day after school he brought him to the dance class. When Yosh tried to sneak out, Dad was there near the entrance waiting for him. He had no choice but to turn back.

“Eventually Yosh stopped sneaking out and did the lessons. But dad still stayed behind. Yosh cried like a big baby once too.”

“Really?” Masayoshi Shido? Crying? Preposterous! The man was only capable of getting drunk, extortion, murder, and one-night stands. “Did you see it? How bad was it?”

“Well _I_ didn’t see it. I just overheard Dad talking to Mom about it last year. Apparently, Dad was sacrificing time and interviews to make sure bro was doing his lessons. When Yosh caught wind of Dad missing an interview, he begged him to leave the studio and trust him. But Dad refused. Of what I heard he said something like ‘I will not fail you’ to Yosh. Honestly though…”

“Do you think it was about gra- your father not trusting him?”

Hiroki stoked his chin. “You know, I don’t think it was like that at all. I wasn’t there but I think Yosh cared less about not being trusted than Dad not thinking for himself. Mom at that point worked two jobs and continued to sell her candles. Dad kept applying to places but stayed home to take care of us. I think my brother wanted Dad to be selfish. I mean, wait until you meet Dad. You’ll see what I mean.”

“Did he…?”

“Get a job? Yeah. All that happened last year. He has his pharmacist job in a hospital and Mom only has one job now. She still has her side gig though.” Hiroki shrugged. “She likes to keep busy outside the house.”

Grandmother worked all by herself while Grandfather stayed home. Such an arrangement was nearly unheard of especially in 1980. The Japanese economy was on fire and the bubble hadn’t burst yet. Grandfather should have been able to provide for his family, instead his wife did and with gusto. And in the face of deciding to interview for a job, Grandfather chose his son’s future instead. Not to become a dancer, but to stay out of trouble and channel the anger and energy into something productive and safe.

“Almost sounds like Masayoshi-kun was on his knees by the way you say it.”

“He was though. Full _dogeza_ and all.”

Dumbfounded, Goro had been an inch close to calling his uncle a liar. A weeping Masayoshi Shido? Maybe not so impossible as he initially believed. But for him to prostrate himself, head to the floor, sobbing as he begged for his father to listen to him? Only in Goro’s wildest dreams. His ultimate desire to rule over his disgraceful father. That went too far into the realm of fantasy. Shido never apologized or begged. Masayoshi ought to be the same. No exceptions.

Hiroki giggled at Goro’s face. “Crazy, huh? But yeah, don’t let it out that I know about it, okay? Yosh would kick my ass if he ever knew.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” And possibly with future Shido. “Why tell me all these things though?”

“Honestly? I dunno? All this is just coming out… I really trust you, senpai.”

 _No don’t trust me, Hiroki…_ Desperate to leave but trapped in a pocket of time in space thanks to his trickster Persona.

Masayoshi entered the room with a towel around his hips, frowning. “Why’re you in my room, you troll?”

“Because!” countered Hiroki.

Grunting, Masayoshi yanked some clothes from his drawer before heading to Hiroki’s room. “Don’t get mad if I piss on your bed.”

Hiroki snorted. “He’s so easy!”

“Aren’t you afraid he’d follow through with his threat?” asked Goro.

“Not this one. I usually can tell when he’s being serious.”

_They’re that close, huh?_

Masayoshi returned to his room carrying a strange device Goro had never seen. It was square-shaped with a few buttons on the side. Connecting to the little box were the oldest, shoddiest headphones in existence. In 2016, they’d be relics from a primitive time. In 1980, they were the hippest, most sought after product. They were atrocious.

A quick glance revealed the brand of the product. A cassette player from a popular company. Goro heard of these Sony Walkmans before. Allegedly, they were all the rage and revolutionized the industry. How strange it was to witness among the first models of the evolution in handheld music.

Sporting the widest, most impish grin, Hiroki lounged at his brother, the Walkman successfully snatched.

“You little shit!”

A jolt ran through Goro’s body. He witnessed this exact scenario a few weeks prior. The memory rang fresh in his mind. He was the victim, much like Masayoshi with his younger brother. The perpetrator, a rambunctious teenager with a penchant for technology.

No.

It wasn’t right. His mind played tricks on him.

Hiroki’s eyes were not exactly like _hers_. They were _not_ the same color either, and most certainly _did not_ shimmer the same way hers did when among technology. They shared no similarities, physically or spiritually. Everything he noticed? Merely a coincidence. The shock of the girl’s seizing his phone from nowhere remained in his system, therefore he correlated Hiroki grabbing the Walkmen from Masayoshi with it.

No. Absolutely not.

Masayoshi allowed his brother to fiddle with the cassette player while he dug into his drawers. He pulled out a pair of black shorts and a white t-shirt and handed them to Goro.

“What’s this?” Goro asked.

“What do you mean ‘what’s this?’” Masayoshi scowled. “They’re clothes, Tanaka. Go shower: you reek.”

“But-”

“Don’t question me.” Masayoshi grabbed a plastic bag on top of his bed. “I bought you underwear from the conbini. Now go before my dad smells you.”

Being at the receiving end of Masayoshi’s frown was as unpleasant in the future as it was in the past.

_It goes to show some people will never change, no matter the circumstance._

“Hey, don’t be scared,” consoled Masayoshi, patting Goro’s shoulder. His smile friendly and genuine. “You’ll feel better after a shower, okay? Just put your clothes to the side and we’ll take care of it before you go home.”

“I… I don’t want to be a bother. Really, it’s fine, Masayoshi-kun,” Goro replied in a muted tone. He couldn’t look at Masayoshi in the eye. The frown was bad, but his smile? The sweet, tender smile? The worst.

And it was given to him without any ulterior motives. No need to pretend to be the prodigious boy detective or a Persona user with the ability to travel into the cognitive world and function as a hitman. Goro was simply Goro. Nothing more, nothing less. And Masayoshi gave him a smile because of it.

It comforted him - the smile and his touch - much to his frustration.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have denied the hospitality. Goro braced himself for another tongue lashing and angry gestures.

“Tanaka.” His face serious, not a trace of malice written in his features. Was it concern? “Please let me be your host.”

Hiroki bit his lip, thumbs tapped on the Walkman and swallowed. Goro’s hesitation made the room feel awkward.

“Alright,” Goro agreed.

 

 

The hot shower was a blessing. Even on the hottest days, Goro used the hot tap. From water he was birthed and by water he’d be comforted. A blanket, a warm hug. The water cleansed Goro from his anxieties, though never permanent. For the time he showered and soaked, his mind rested, the woes and worries from the world gone, yet as soon as he stepped out from the bathroom, reality crushed his heart. A reminder there was no safe place in this cold world.

However, this would be the one shower Goro could not rid himself of his uncertainties.

“It’s not true…” he told himself. “My uncle is nothing like her.”

Masayoshi’s cowlick came to mind. It sat in the middle of his head and curved outwards rather than inwards like Goro’s. Truth be told, he had ignored the silly hair the entire time he met Masayoshi, thinking nothing of it. Merely a cowlick. Goro had one too. No big deal.

But now his recollections of the hair played over and over.

Goro slammed his fist against the tile.

Impossible.

“No, no, no, no…” Goro slid onto the floor, hands grasped his head wrought with panic. Vision blurred. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

A coincidence. That’s all it was. Simply a coincidence. His suspicions were only that. Unfounded and the product of his years of detective work and covering his tracks. Paranoia did not equal the truth. His observations were wrong and biased. He was still shaken by his phone being yanked from his hand.

“Yes, that’s all it is,” he sighed, heart relaxed. This time travel deal was too much for his spirit. Just when he thought he got the hang of things; a rug was pulled from under his feet.

After his shower, Goro carried his dirty clothes out. No way would he let himself be a burden again. And who was to say accidentally leaving a piece of him wouldn’t affect the entire future of the world. Was he always meant to go back in time and thus the future remained the same, or did his interactions or presence change the course of history? Did he change something as small as his birth or something at a large scale like the Fukushima Daiishi disaster?

Would the world be a better place if he were never born?

“Hold it,” said a voice behind him.

Goro paused midstep. It was his grandmother. “Uh… is there something I can assist you with, Shido-san?”

“For starters you can call me Natsu. Now…” She held out her hand. “Give it here.”

“Give what?”

“Your dirty clothes.” Hand waited expectantly. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“Please, Shido-sa-”

“Natsu!”

“Natsu-san please.” Goro bowed, her ‘hmph’ at the san notwithstanding. “I can take care of my own clothes.”

“Don’t you cross me.” She narrowed her eyes. “This is my own house and I won’t let you insult me like this.”

Back straightened, butt clenched, Goro handed his clothes to his grandmother. “Y-yes ma’am.”

Once receiving the clothes, Natsu’s appearance changed from hardened to caring. She cupped his face with one hand. “I’m sorry if I scared you. You just… remind me so much of my own baby.”

“Do I really?”

She nodded. “Yes. But I promise I won’t be waving knives at you. That’s reserved for Masayoshi only because he’s so stubborn.” Natsu sighed. “Well I guess he gets that from me. Anyway, I’ll go wash your clothes. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay.”

Natsu rolled her eyes and grabbed Goro's hand. “No need for the formalities. Follow me.”

 

 

Goro returned to Masayoshi’s room holding a tray of iced barley tea his grandmother prepared. The brothers were playing video games, eyes glued to the screen as the space ships were shooting the blocky alien ships. The epitome of technology and graphics for the time.

“Ooh, ooh! Close the door!” cried Hiroki. “The rats are out!”

After closing the door, Goro placed the tray on the floor when he noticed a white animal on Masayoshi’s shoulder and a grey one on Hiroki’s lap.

_No way!_

Never mind the the animals! If anything, they brought the way Masayoshi sat to Goro’s attention. Hiroki, by contrast, sat with his legs crossed, but Masayoshi? His squatted feet flat on the floor, though that hadn’t been what spooked him. Most men squatted with their legs far apart, however Masayoshi’s legs were tightly closed while his body hunched near. His posture stood rigid as he played with Hiroki, cowlick curved proud, body comfortable and at ease.

Goro startled. This was the gargoyle Hiroki spoke about! The very gargoyle he witnessed when he had meetings with the Phantom Thieves.

_Stop it! It’s a coincidence!_

“They’re just rats,” said Masayoshi, still concentrating on the game. The white rat climbed onto his head. “Come sit.”

Hiroki sneered. “He’s looking at you, Quasimodo.”

“Shut up.”

A pixelated tune of defeat played. ‘Game Over’ blinked on the screen. Hiroki groaned and Masayoshi threw his controller on the ground in anger.

“ **It’s just a game bro**!” Hiroki snickered. “ **It’s not real at all, Yosh! Video games aren’t real!** ”

“ **Fuck you!** ” Masayoshi smacked a pillow across Hiroki’s face.

“No fuck you!” He grabbed and tossed the pillow back at Masayoshi’s legs. “You know I’m right, bro!”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!” their mother yelled from the bottom stairs. “YOU HAVE A GUEST, YOU BEASTS.”

Unfazed by the pillow’s force or his mother’s scolding, Masayoshi plucked the rat from his head and rewarded it with gentle tickles on its tummy. “Don’t take it out on the rats, idiot. What if I fell over?”

“Sorry.”

The rat wrestled with Masayoshi’s fingers and climbed onto his shoulder. It sniffed and nipped his cheek with affectionate kisses. Masayoshi laughed and called out to the other rat on Hiroki’s lap. “Come on Mickey.”

The grey rat squeaked and climbed onto Masayoshi’s other shoulder. Goro stared at how calm and happy Masayoshi appeared surrounded by cute rodents. He never thought Shido was capable of loving animals, but here he was having fun - with rats of all creatures - and showered them with little head rubs and and pats.

And the name Mickey? Not a subtle name.

“Mickey?” asked Goro. “You named your rat Mickey”

“No,” replied Masayoshi, indignant at the implication. “Hiroki did. He cried to Mom about how it wasn’t fair he couldn’t name the rat even though _I_ bought them.”

“I didn’t cry!” Hiroki puffed his cheeks.

“Yeah you did. Mom just rolled her eyes and said fine whatever to get you to leave her alone.”

Goro couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s the white one’s name?”

“Jerry!” said Hiroki.

“Like the cartoon?” Goro covered his smirk with his hand. Masayoshi having pets named after cartoon mice was pure gold.

Masayoshi glared at Hiroki. “It’s his fault he’s named Jerry too. I wanted to name them Carl and Casval.”

“Gundam sucks.”

Masayoshi scowled at Hiroki. Mickey and Jerry looked just as disgusted with the younger brother. “Plebeian.”

“I’m not that well-versed in Gundam,” said Goro. “But why those names?”

“Casval is Char’s real name.” Masayoshi picked up Jerry and moved him about in a silly dance. “And Carl is after Carl Jung.”

“The psychologist?”

Masayoshi nodded. “I like the subject. I find his research on cognition interesting.”

So Shido’s fascination on the subject started as early as high school? Why didn’t he pursue the subject? Why go into politics? What in the world caused Masayoshi to fall into the deep end and spiral out of control?

There had to be a reason. If this were a dream, Goro wished he would not awake until he had the answer.

Hiroki mentioned Masayoshi not wanting to disappoint his father. Perhaps that’s where the source of anxiety and distortion originated.

“I’m home!” announced an adult man’s voice.

“Welcome home!” Hiroki, Masayoshi, and their mother responded.

Goro would soon have his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now grandpa has arrived home...
> 
> -Beatles aside, ringo in Japanese means apple hence Goro being confused.  
> -Japanese conbini have a lot of neat things. You honest to God can buy underwear there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa Shido finally arrived from work and Goro has to face the last member of the Shido family.  
> What he sought was not what he hoped for.  
> It was worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took quite a while to make. Lots of thinking and thonking.  
> I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this story.

He was here: his grandfather arrived home.

Hiroki got up and drank the barley tea Goro brought. He sat back down in his seat to play another session; they both remained where they stood, not at all in a hurry to see their father.

“Aren’t you going to greet him?” asked Goro.

“No way.” Hiroki’s face soured. “Mom’s probably smooching him right now.”

“Huh?”

Masayoshi placed Jerry on his other shoulder. “What you heard. Mom doesn’t have a traditional sense of boundaries and is either swapping spit with Dad or getting her foot massaged. Personally, we wait it out until either of them calls us.”

“Foot massages is one thing, but I don’t want to see my parents be so lovey-dovey. Gross.”

“I see…” Unfamiliar wisps tickled his hand. The grey rat sniffled his fingers and nibbled gently on a nail. “Uhh…”

“He’s saying hello,” replied Masayoshi. Fond eyes on his pet. “Don’t worry, Mickey’s nice.”

Goro scooped the rat into his hands and allowed it to crawl up his arm. “I never thought you’d be the sort to like rodents.”

Masayoshi arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“That is to say.” Save face Goro! “You seem more like a dog person.”

“Dogs are alright, but they’re too needy.” Masayoshi scratched Jerry’s neck then pointed his head at Hiroki. “I already have to deal with this chihuahua right here.”

“HEY!”

Goro snorted. They were such opposites in personality, yet the two brothers complemented each other well. He wondered if Shido maintained his relationship with his brother. Did they speak and get together frequently or were they estranged? If Shido was indeed estranged from his family, Goro couldn’t help but to think the entire thing was his own fault. A man so ambitious and eager for power… He had no qualms to have people killed much less ruin people to get far in life.

Sad, though. If Shido and Hiroki weren’t on speaking terms…

_I need to find a way back to my time. I want to find Shido Hiroki._

Natsu opened the door. “Help me set up the table.” Seeing Goro get up, she held up her hand in protest. “No, not you Goro-kun. You’re our guest.” She picked up Mickey from Goro’s shoulder and kissed his head. “ **Put the babies back in their cage**.”

Masayoshi eyes shifted to Goro then back to his mother, smirking. “ **No yelling for us to come downstairs, huh?** ”

“ **First warning, brat.** ” She kissed Mickey, then knocked Masayoshi from his gargoyle form with her foot. “Your father is waiting. Come along, Goro-kun.”

  
  
  


If his heart continued to have these moments of shock and worry, it would grow tired and cease to beat. There was only so much stress a person could handle, and Goro neared it. Fists clenched, shivers running through his body. This could not be worse than with his grandmother. At his wit’s end, he just wanted to see his grandfather and be done with it.

A tall man sat in the living area’s couch, beer in one hand, book in another. Clean faced, his dark hair was short and well-kept. Hiroki sat at his side, legs bobbing incessantly as he told his father about his day and the new friend he made. The man responded with a gentle smile and an affectionate hand to his son’s head. No ruffling, only a few soft strokes before speaking to Hiroki.

“How exciting.” Not a hint of sarcasm or an insincere rote response echoed from his low, smooth voice. Kind eyes met with Goro’s. “He sounds like a wonderful person.”

Masayoshi with hair did not freak Goro out - he looked almost exactly like him after all! But his grandfather sure did. Despite his grandfather not being as identical as Goro had been with Masayoshi, he definitely resembled his son in his adult years. For a split second, Goro swore he saw Shido staring at him with serene eyes.

His limbs grew cold before his heart punched him back into reality.

His grandfather stood up from his seat, patting Hiroki on the shoulder. “You must be Goro-kun.” He smiled. “My name is Shido Masahiro. Pleased to meet you.”

“Ah, um…” Goro bowed, unable to look at his grandfather in the eye. “Thank you for letting me into your nice home.”

“Such a formal child.” He chuckled, hand placed on Goro’s head. “Please have a seat.”

Hiroki pat the sofa section next to him, while his grandfather left towards the kitchen, nodding his head to Masayoshi who had gathered plates and utensils. Masayoshi returned the nod with a knowing smile.

Tongue tied and feeling flushed from his grandfather’s touch, Goro opted to sit instead of making a fool out of himself. Why was this man so gracious?

“Hiroki,” his grandfather called.

“Yes?”

“You should be helping your brother set the table.”

“Aw! But Yosh’s got it!”

“Hiroki, do as your father says or you don’t get to eat!”

“Honey,” Grandfather replied in a hushed tone. “You don’t have to be harsh.”

“They have a guest! He’s picking up these awful habits from Masayoshi! You know how he gets when people are over!”

Masayoshi smirked at Hiroki.

His uncle sank into the couch, muttering, “Why she always gotta be so loud?”

“Their friend can hear you, Natsu,” her husband soothed.

“A-ah, Hiroki help your brother please…” Natsu exited the kitchen with a plate full of fish and a pout on her reddening cheeks. “Goro-kun, please sit with us.”

Masayoshi bit his lip, the grin slipping through. “Do you want some wine, Mom?”

“Yes please.” Natsu grabbed Goro behind the shoulders and led him to a seat beside Hiroki. “Sit, sit.”

“Th-thank you, Natsu-san.”

Fish, grilled vegetables, and pasta were on the menu. Masayoshi served himself and his mother red wine while Hiroki and his father drank chilled tea. When given the option, Goro asked for the tea, memories of Shido’s office running through his head. Elegant and simple, Shido’s office was like any other, however next to his desk was a small wine cabinet with glasses. Goro never saw Shido imbibe while present, but he knew his father had the tendency to drink heavily if he got too carried away.

Interesting that his wine habits originated from his mother and not himself. Goro pegged Shido as the sort to acquire it through his adult experiences as wine had a sort of foreign air and fanciness to it Japanese spirits seemingly could not compare to.

Where was Natsu from anyway?

“You seem tense,” his grandfather said, adding an extra piece of fish to his plate. “Where are you from, Goro-kun?”

“I’m from Tokyo.”

Masahiro nodded. “I’m originally from Ayanagi City, but my boys are Tokyo natives like yourself.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking…?”

“ **Darling** …” Natsu warned.

Goro blinked. “What is it?”

His grandmother waved her hand sideways. “Nothing, Goro-kun-”

“Dad wants to ask you if your family did okay after the war,” interrupted Masayoshi. The warning shot from his mother’s eyes were ignored with a sip of his wine.

A distant memory in Goro’s time and life, his grandparents must have been affected by the war in some manner. They seemed too young to have experienced it first hand, but definitely its aftereffects. Thinking about it, his grandmother spoke English. Perhaps she was from America and felt the subject was too touchy for herself or for Goro.

“It’s fine,” Goro responded with his trademark television smile. “My family is fine.”

Grandfather returned the smile, relieved. “I apologize for the question. I’m glad your family is well.”

“ **He always does this** .” Hiroki sighed, hand resting on his chin. “ **Mom, tell Dad to stop**.”

“He can understand you, Hiroki,” Natsu answered. “ **You know how your father feels about this**.”

But they are not well, Goro wanted to say. His father abandoned them to be food for the wolves and his mother died in the process, leaving Goro to struggle alone in the hectic and pitiless world. His smile hurt. His mouth hurt. His throat hurt. It hurt to see the look of alleviation on his grandfather, shoulders relaxed, eyebrows unfurrowed.

And it was sincere!

His grandfather truly wanted to know if his family did okay during a tumultuous time in Japanese history.

Where was the monster? Where was the reason for his father’s downfall!?

Vision blurring, Goro blinked several times to remove his sign of weakness. Masayoshi and his grandfather’s eyes shifted towards his own before looking at one another and ate. He hoped they didn’t notice anything. Allergies, dust, pretending to have contact lenses? Goro prepared himself with a slew of excuses, yet the opportunity never came.

_Good. Let it remain that way._

After that, dinner continued peacefully though not quietly. Through conversation Goro found out interesting tidbits about the Shido household. One that stood out to him the most was how his grandfather got lost the first time he went to Tokyo, and because of it he met his future wife. His grandmother sat on a lonely bench at the station, refusing to go back home until her father realized she went missing. Overwhelmed by the signs - and Natsu’s cute pout - Masahiro approached her to ask for directions and proceeded to be yelled at in broken Japanese.

“I was lost too,” Natsu admitted. “My Japanese wasn’t good so I wasn’t entirely sure if I could make it home by asking for help.”

“But I didn’t take it too hard,” his grandfather replied. “I thought it made you cuter.”

Goro giggled at his grandmother’s red face. “Where are you from, Natsu-san?”

“America,” she beamed. “Chicago, Illinois. My father immigrated there before I was born. I stayed there until I was a teenager.”

“Your English is very good.”

“Thank you. My Italian is fairly good too. I spent a long time with an Italian family growing up. They’re like my other family.”

“That’s why she yells all the damn time,” Masayoshi replied with a smirk.

His grandmother shot daggers. “ **Second warning, brat.** ” A sweet smile to Goro. “But enough about me, tell me about yourself, Goro-kun.”

“Yeah,” said Masayoshi, “how did you get into Yokubo?”

“That’s an excellent school,” noted Masahiro.

“Haha, yes, well, I studied hard?”

His grandfather nodded. “Your parents must be very proud.”

“Oh, yes, my mother is very proud,” he lied. Masahiro furrowed his eyebrows, a stare begging for Goro to continue. He had to comply. “Ah, it’s just me and my mother.”

“I see…” Masahiro chewed on his lip. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is your mother well?”

 _No._ “Yes. She works nights. I’m living in the dorms through scholarships. Ah, but, I was the one who wanted it. I think it makes for a more promising school life. That way I can concentrate on my studies and get into a great university.”

Wait, should he have said that? Did it even sound natural?

Masayoshi sipped his wine loudly, suspicious eyes on his senpai, face unreadable. He got up. “Dad, I think you’re out of cigarettes.”

“But I have enough?”

“No.” His face blank, eyes hyper-focused on his father’s. “You don’t.”

Masahiro raised his gaze and nodded shortly. “You’re right. Let’s go get some, Masayoshi.”

The two left the home to buy cigarettes. Goro’s instincts hold him there was more to the errand than what it seemed. Hiroki cleared the table while his grandmother nursed her wine as if Masayoshi’s comment made perfect sense. Goro excused himself to the toilet room.

Washing his face, the room blurred. Goro clung onto the sink, his grip on reality fading in spurts of the present and past. What in the world was happening?

**Enjoying your wish?**

“Loki…” Goro glared at the mirror. There was no one but himself staring back. Stripes of black and white dimmed on the reflection. Yellow eyes and a toothy smile. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

**I am thou, and thou art I.**

**You can lie to yourself, but in the end, it does not change the truth.**

_How do I go back home? Am I stuck here in the past? What do I have to do to go back?_

**You’re no fun. Why should I tell you?**

_You’re supposed to be me. This secrecy does not benefit you or me._

Loki snickered. **That you are right. If you must absolutely know, this may or may not be reality.**

_You are a shapeshifting god, an illusionist. The ultimate trickster. Your vague answer does not leave me any confidence._

**I once dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Goro. Soon I awoke, and there I was, veritably myself again.**

_Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man._

**The burden lies on you. Do you believe this to be an illusion or a portal into time? If this is a dream… is it a pleasant one?**

_Wait, then if I sleep it’s all over? Is that the awakening to the dream?_

Loki did not answer. The cheshire grin reflecting back transformed into a young man with a frown, his own face.

_Loki, answer me!_

Again, Loki did not speak. The mirror remained the same as before.

“Loki!” Goro slammed his hand against the sink.

Goro’s reflection mimicked his actions.

His body sank onto the floor, resting against the door. The answer was simple: Goro had to wake up and the only way to do so was sleep. If he slept, then it would be all over. He’d wake up in Shido’s home and be back home. A cold sensation swept through his body.

Home.

Was it really home?

Nothing good awaited him. No family or friends. Only a public whose whims changed quicker than the latest viral meme on the internet. One day he coasted through the television screens, his adoring fans squealing and cooing his name. They wanted more of him and he gave them more. Through the efforts of the Phantom Thieves his popularity waned, often mocked and roasted on forums and blogs. There was no escape from public ire.

All he had left was to infiltrate Sae’s palace and place a bullet through Ren’s head after the set up. Friday’s events awaited him. One step closer to his revenge. One step closer to having Shido’s head under his feet. He would ruin him. Afterall, Shido ruined his life first. It was only fair to give him the karmic retribution he accumulated for so long.

But… was that what he wanted? Did Goro truly want to go back to all that? What if his plan failed?

No. It would not fail. His plan was flawless. He planned it since childhood, perfecting it the older he became. And with his powers - with Loki, Goro had the ability to enact justice on the horrid man known as Shido Masayoshi.

“Masayoshi…”

He was a nice guy. Shady in his actions, but still a reliable kid who allowed his mother to kiss him and doted on his younger brother despite the bratty behavior. Never in his life did Goro ever see Shido as the sort to get on all fours and beg to his father to think of himself. But Masayoshi did. Tears and grime from the concrete floor, Masayoshi swallowed his pride so his father could blossom.

A dream, huh? Masayoshi felt too much like Shido to be a dream. The snarls and frowns. The calculated stares, right down to the use of others’ talents and connections to make money and further his goals.

Where did it all go wrong?

If he were gifted with the opportunity to change his fate, then would he take the chance? What could he possibly to do make Masayoshi accept him into his life?

“The worst that could happen is nothing, right?”

Goro emerged from the room, time and his body his enemy. He pulled all-nighters in the past; sometimes for school, a majority as of late for his cases. Though once the test ended or the case came closer to being solved, Goro climbed into his bed or on a couch and slipped into a coma to energize. But that was for only one day, never two. When he tried for longer than 48 hours, Goro dozed off during quiet moments, his will and brain too fried to fight to stay awake.

The longest a human had gone without sleep was seven or ten days. One of those two. By the third day without sleep, researchers reported the people having auditory and sensory hallucinations such as voices and spiders crawling on their limbs. Goro could not imagine what else these insomniacs felt after the third day.

He had less than twenty-four hours to stay awake and determine how to figure out Masayoshi’s fall. A daunting task made more arduous with the idea that Masayoshi’s issue may have happened far into the future instead of in 1980. Would his intervention be enough to make his father accept responsibility over an action that would occur in seventeen years?

Goro had to try.

“You look tired,” his grandmother said, drying her hands with a dish towel. “Why don’t you head off for bed? You can sleep on Masayoshi’s bed.”

“No, thank you.” Goro shook his head. “It’s a bit too early.”

“Maybe a short nap? I heard even a thirty minute nap does wonders.”

“It’s no both-”

Natsu’s finger whipped to the couch. “Sleep on the couch right now.”

“I uh, erm, yes ma’am,” he said in defeat. There was no way he could win an argument against his grandmother, especially when her glare resembled Shido’s.

Goro laid his head on the couch. She pulled a blanket over him, a satisfied smile radiated on her face.

He closed his eyes in hopes to trick her - more so to not be at the brunt end of her wrath. Goro’s mother yelled at him a few times in his life, but his grandmother was an entirely different beast, screaming being the most common method to communicate her dissatisfaction to her family, a habit she may have acquired in America if Hiroki’s words were anything to go by. Still, the volume of her voice and tone did not indicate anger which relieved Goro.

His grandmother’s soft hand stroked his forehead before stepping away from the couch. She whispered gentle words to Hiroki and continued to work nearby.

And now the current situation posed a different problem: it was easier to lull oneself to sleep with closed eyes. But Goro fought against the painful, heavy sleep. His mind raced to think of anything to keep him awake. Cases, the Phantom Thieves, coffee, his blog, anything! If he slept now, it would all be over. Not getting the chance to change his fate would not be acceptable, and he’d never forgive himself if it ended before he tried.

The television’s low sounds echoed close - a good distraction. A sweet song and hum bounced from the kitchen walls and into his ears. The feminine voice soothed his restless thoughts. It was like how he saw mothers in the TV growing up. His mother never sang around him, though sometimes she hummed about. But Natsu - no, his grandmother - sang! She was like those loving mothers in those shows he watched!

Little clacks and taps on the counters indicated his grandmother creating beats for her song. Somewhat off-tune, Goro loved how they accentuated her music and energy. And she did this fully knowing Goro could have been asleep. Not that she was loud or intrusive or anything like that, but… she was vibrant and happy.

His grandmother was a happy person despite her hardships and standing in life.

Wetness formed under his eyelids. A small dew escaped the folds and rolled down his cheek, into the sofa’s fabric.

His thoughts must have silenced the rest of his hearing as he heard his grandmother greet her husband from the errand. Strange that it took so long. Masayoshi must have told his father a lot.

“He’s asleep right now, darling.”

“Masayoshi told me more about him.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked if he’s mine.”

“Well?” Grandma tapped her foot. “Is he?”

“I already told you that’s impossible, and he looks more like _you_ than me.”

She sighed. “I know, I know. I just can’t explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why Goro-kun feels like he belongs to us.”

“I know,” Grandpa whispered. “I think we should take him in.”

A plate landed on the counter, albeit did not shatter. “What? What are you saying, Masahiro? We can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“He has a family.”

“How do you know that? Do you honestly trust what he said?”

“W-what did Masayoshi tell you?”

“He thinks that boy has nowhere to go, or at least has a bad home. He said the boy wore clothes from another school and didn’t have shoes or money on him, and avoided questions about his home when he smoked with Masayoshi’s friends. He’s a scholarship kid too. The boy already stated he lives alone for school. There’s something wrong, Natsu.”

No. No. No. No.

He couldn’t have possibly been that obvious. Did the boys ask him about his life while he was high? He couldn’t remember and it worried him. Shido, a sharp man for detail due to his own intelligence and growing paranoia, would Masayoshi be able to capture all that information with a simple conversation?

Impossible.

Goro carefully maneuvered through his giggles and wild thoughts. Besides, Shido didn’t know about his plan in the present day so how was Masayoshi any different? Goro was several steps ahead of him both past and future. Always and forever.

“Taking him in and making him our own…” Grandma’s voice hesitated. “I…”

“Let’s do it.”

“Masahiro…” Deep sniffles resonated. “This is just…”

“Don’t cry, honey.”

 _I’m not worth crying over, Grandma._ Goro’s body tensed, muscles sore and immobile. The sounds of Grandpa comforting his wife in his arms an elegy to his heart. Air scorched his lungs against his constricting chest. The wetness on the couch cushion increased.

“Don’t get me wrong: I do want him. I really do, Masahiro. I’m just afraid.”

“I know. But, do you agree with me?”

“Let’s… let’s take it slow and let him spend the night. I don’t want to shock the child. But do I want to know what else is going on in his life.”

“I do too.” Grandpa sighed. “And you’re right: we should tread carefully. Besides, something about this situation doesn’t feel… quite right. I can’t explain it either, but I do feel Goro-kun came to us for a reason. And I think we should help him.”

Why would anyone want him so fast? Why did they care so much about him when they barely met for less than a few hours? No one in the world did kind gestures for free. Was it his looks? Did they take pity on him? What in the world triggered the Shido parents to go so far as to suggest adoption?

Goro was going to disappear from their lives in less than a day. The thought of their disappointment - No that wasn’t right. They would not be disappointed. Grandma’s tears and sniffs weren’t insincere or from disappointment but out of concern and conflict. As much as he wanted to paint his grandparents as heartless monsters, they simply were not. They were normal folks with complex emotions and personalities. Natsu and Masahiro were good people; they just happened to have a son that would rot and become corrupted in the years following.

If Goro went back and was nowhere to be found, they would be sad. At least he hoped they would be.

Grandma tsked, thumb smoothing the worried wrinkles over Goro’s face. “He’s so stressed he’s sleeping in such a tight ball. **And he’s crying in his sleep**.”

“Hn,” Grandpa agreed.

“Goro-kun,” Grandma coaxed. “It’s been thirty minutes. Time to wake up.”

Give them a few more shakes then wake up, he told himself. Better to look dead tired than conveniently wide awake after a supposed nap. “Huh?” he slurred, eyes blinking and stretched out his body. His hand covered a yawn. “Did you really count for me, Natsu-san?”

Grandma winked. “You didn’t want to pass out into the morning, remember?”

“Haha, you’re right.” He flashed her a sleepy smile.

“Your clothes are almost ready. Why don’t you go upstairs and play with the boys?”

  
  


“It’s bullshit this happened to you, Ishida.” Voice low, Masayoshi spoke on the phone upstairs. “Don’t worry: he’s going to get what’s his.”

Goro hid near the foot of the top stairs. Masayoshi’s back faced him. He hoped he was too absorbed with his conversation to notice the sound of footsteps.

“Heh, you really do worry too much. Yoneda’s bitch friends won’t do shit- Who? Nah, I’m not worried about him. I have a baseball bat with Fujiwara’s name on it.” Masayoshi frowned. “No, idiot, I won’t be doing the hit.”

By the look of things, it wouldn’t have surprised Goro if Masayoshi planned to assault someone, but considering his current punishment to curb his violent behavior, he must have known better than to do the deed himself. A wise man would have used another to perform his actions. Masayoshi was that wise man.

The teen smirked. “I have someone who’ll break the Karukoza’s star pitcher’s prized right arm if I have to. All you need is some uncensored western pussy and the latest Michael Jackson and you got yourself a hitman. People are so easy to manipulate, Ishida. … yeah, you’re smart for wanting to be a lawyer.”

Well there’s the Shido he knew…

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ll take you out for yakisoba or ramen soon: my treat. You deserve it for your hard work and studying … No, it’s fine. For real … Heh… You’re a better person than me, but I’m still treating you to something.”

...Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to dislike him.

“Goodnight Ishida. Keep an eye out on your stitches.”

Masayoshi hung up and turned, smiling. “You can come out now, Tanaka.”

Goro emerged from the steps, embarrassed. “Was I that obvious?”

“Kinda.” Masayoshi patted his back. “Hiroki wants to talk to you about something. I’ll be there in a few. I gotta call my cousin in Chicago about business.”

“YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES OR YOU’RE PAYING THE LONG DISTANCE BILL!”

“Yes Mom!” He rolled his eyes. “Go on ahead.”

  
  


Hiroki bounced in his chair when Goro entered his room. “Glad you’re awake, senpai! I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Using his arms, the boy swept his bed clean from the gadgets he placed earlier, grabbed Goro and sat him on the bed. “Comfy?”

“I’m comfortable.”

“Okay so…” Hiroki paced around his room, head down and hand on his chin. “It’s kinda hard to say.”

“What is?”

“Um, I know this is a lot to ask for, especially since we just met today and all. I don’t want you to think I’m clingy or anything.”

Goro shook his head. “You’re not being clingy, Hiroki. You can tell me anything.”

“Well…” Eyes on the floor, thumbs twiddling as he bit his inner cheek. “Next week I’m turning fourteen.”

“You are? Happy birthday Hiroki! So your sign is…?”

Hiroki’s face flushed. “Cancer. Ah but…”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m a bit too old to have a party, but, um, would you like to hang out and celebrate it? I was thinking about eating at an izakaya and karaoke? If, if you want of course!”

What was the proper response to give to his uncle? Say yes and Hiroki would find no Goro at his birthday, or say no and Hiroki’s mood would deflate before him. Each option gnawed on his conscience. He didn’t want to lie to his uncle, but he didn’t want to see his disappointment either.

It wasn’t fair at all.

Goro stretched his lips into what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I’d love to, Hiroki.”

His uncle’s eyes lit up. “R-really? You mean it!?”

“Yes- oof!” Hiroki tackled Goro into the bed with a big hug, knocking the wind out of him. “Ah, um, you’re heavy Hiroki.”

“I’m just so excited! Thank you so much, Goro-senpai! When’s your birthday? When’s your birthday!?”

“Ugh, um, June 2nd.”

“Aww! Well happy belated birthday!”

“Get the hell off him, dumbass.” Masayoshi entered the room with a scowl. “You’re gonna suffocate him.”

Hiroki stuck out his tongue. “Am not!”

“Are too.” Masayoshi pulled his younger brother off Goro and placed him in a choke hold. He laughed at Hiroki’s attempts to escape. “You okay there, Tanaka?”

Goro caught his breath. Never in his life had he been hugged like that and so abruptly too. “I’m fine. But shouldn’t you let _your_ brother breathe?”

“He’s fine.”

“Argh! Lemme go!” He fell onto the floor when Masayoshi loosened his grip.

Masayoshi grinned. “You told me to let go.”

“Jerk.” Hiroki returned the grin and held out his hand for a boost.

His father complied and ruffled his brother’s head. His amber eyes pierced through Goro’s maroon. A wistful smile formed, almost pained. “It’s pretty late, Tanaka.”

Goro’s breath hitched, posture tightening.

Of course.

Masayoshi was telling him to leave. His journey came to a sudden halt. The twenty-four hours Goro had to figure out his father’s past reduced to less than one.

He failed.

Goro failed.

The disillusionment struck him hard, the pit of his stomach an endless black hole of despair and reality. Masayoshi didn’t care about him. He was no different from Shido and it hurt.

“Haha, so it is,” Goro lamented. The colors from the room became murky and gray. Perhaps if he found a park he could sleep on a bench and be done with it. He had no intention to be unwanted.

Funny enough, his grandparents and Hiroki seemed to want them in their lives. But Masayoshi? He wanted nothing to do with Goro. Simply smoke illegal substances, have a cheap laugh and gloat his assets and wonderful family before escorting him out of his loving home. He’d grow up to be the monster he knew.

No.

The monster was always there. He never left, merely masked his true nature until the time was right.

“I’d better get going then.” Goro rose from the bed, straightening his blazer and pants before heading out.

“Where the hell are you going?” chided Masayoshi.

Goro looked back to see the irritated frown on Masayoshi’s face. “Home? You said it was getting late.”

“I didn’t say shit about you leaving _my_ home, you fool.” Masayoshi tightened his fists. The scowl deepened, offended by Goro’s words. “All I said was that it’s late.”

“Bro…” Hiroki tapped his brother shoulder. “Calm down.”

Masayoshi’s body shrunk slightly by his brother’s words. His exhaled through his nose and swiped through his hair. “Go to my room, Tanaka. I’m not done with you yet. And god help me if you’re not there when I get back.”

“I-” Goro started.

With long strides, Masayoshi opened the door to his room and waited for Goro to enter. “Don’t cross me.”

Lead feet dragged themselves into the elder Shido’s room. As in the future as it was in the past, Goro obeyed Shido’s command. Smaller body, shorter, and a higher pitched voice Masayoshi and Shido were one in the same. This time, though, hiding his pain proved more difficult. Lying to adult was easy, but to a peer? Someone he sort of saw as another individual yet also his father? A crucible.

Masayoshi sighed and closed the door, careful to not show his back to Goro or shut it too loud. “ **Make sure he doesn’t leave.** ”

“ **Hey, are you okay, big bro?** ”

“ **I’m fine. I just gotta talk to Mom and Dad about something. Make sure he’s okay, alright?** ”

“ **I think you scared him. You need to stop doing that.** ”

“ **I know, I know, I’m sorry about that too. Just take care of him. I won’t be long.** ”

Did he understand correctly or was his mind playing tricks as him? Did he… did Masayoshi want him to stay?

His body quaked, eyes on the door lest it somehow disappeared. Holding up his hands, Goro rubbed them furiously to remove the shaking but to no avail. The room grew cold. Frost penetrated his marrow. He had to warm up. He had to put back his mask of calm, cool, and collected. His family couldn’t see this vulnerable side of him. They couldn’t!

A squeak woke him from his stupor.

Hiroki entered the room and found Goro visiting the rats. He giggled at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”

Goro nodded, a forced smile on his lips turned genuine with Jerry nibbling on his finger. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Hiroki probably sensed Goro took Masayoshi’s words to heart with how he settled his brother down. No need to worry the boy.

“I know my brother can be harsh, but he means well.” Hiroki scratched the back of his head. “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d take it as him kicking you out. I mean, if he wanted you out, you’d know, you know?”

“Hn.”

“I’m serious, senpai. Yosh’s done it before and this isn’t one of them. I think he’s just insulted you thought opposite.” He touched Goro’s shoulder and jumped back at Goro’s jolt. “I, uh… He’s trying. Masayoshi is really trying.”

He thought it before, and he’d think it again: what a good kid. A sweet, loving kid. Someone Goro would’ve loved to befriend in his time. Someone he’d gladly mentor and share secrets with. The sort of person anyone would be proud to have as a sibling. Instead, Goro ignored him. He didn’t believe he could face him nearing a breakdown. To be strong was the goal, yet it seemed impossible at the rate the evening went. If he could tell his uncle the truth, he would, but deep down the words mirrored that of a madman’s. Silence would be Goro’s one true ally.

Hiroki didn’t deserve such a petulant nephew.

“Thank you.” Voice at the edge of cracking. He flashed another sincere smile to the younger Shido. “You’re a great person, Hiroki-kun.”

“H-huh!?” His uncle’s face red as a tomato. “D-don’t say stuff like that, senpai!”

Goro chuckled and patted Hiroki’s head. “I can say whatever. I _am_ your senpai after all.”

Masayoshi walked in, blank and pensive. “You should tell your mother you’re spending the night.”

Goro’s arm paused mid-pat. “Pardon?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Yosh,” Hiroki warned.

Masayoshi bit his lip. “Mom says you can spend the night, so don’t piss her off and just stay over.”

“Masayoshi-kun, could it be…?”

“Hmm?”

Goro rubbed his chin. He didn’t lie about the mother bit, that was obvious. Though with what his uncle said? With everything he had come to learn? His breathing grew profound, each breath a swell of confidence in his chest to gather the courage to speak freely to his frightful teen of a father. “That _you_ want me to spend the night?”

His father said nothing. Pale skin painted rubor, amber eyes drifted away from Goro’s line of sight. “So what if I do?”

If life were a cartoon, this would be the time when his heart burst through a tiny door in his chest and let itself out. Even in dreams such a concept were possible, however this wasn’t an ordinary dream. The oxygen and excitement coursing through his veins were real. The thumping and loud whirls in ears were real. Masayoshi wanted him to be there at his side.

“Nothing,” answered Goro. “I guess I shouldn’t be rude and accept the invitation.”

“You’re going to spend the night!?” Hiroki cried.

“I am.”

Masayoshi smirked. “Good.” The smile waned. “You should call your mother.”

“Oh, but she’s working late tonight and-”

“You can still make a quick call. Don’t make her worry.”

Hiroki nodded. “It’s the right thing to do.”

The right thing to do…? Must be nice to have such innocent convictions.

But how was he going to accomplish such a task? He had no way of finding his mother. If he somehow did, she’d be too young to have a child. Her parents would freak out and call him a pervert for talking nonsense to their daughter. Ah, but… there was no need for an actual phone call. After all, pretending to be on the phone to avoid annoying vendors or advertisers was something he did often in the future. The same would apply here as well.

“I’ll call her.”

  
  


Grandma folded his clothes with the utmost care, placing them inside a plastic bag. She seemed pleased with Goro’s decision to spend the night and urged him to snack on whatever he liked.

“You’re too kind…” His legs shifted uncomfortably. “...Natsu-san?”

“Yes?”

“Do you miss it? ...America? Is that home to you?”

“Hmm…” She rested her chin between her thumb and index finger, a pose Goro knew all too well. “It’s always my home.”

“Even if you’ve been in Japan for longer?”

Grandma smiled. “I miss America so much I crave it. It’s in my dreams and thoughts. I wanted to run away and live with my siblings. My older ones got to stay behind, but looks like it wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“What made you stay?”

Her chin pointed toward her husband sitting on the sofa, reading a book. “I fell in love and had children. Japan slowly became my second home, so even though I’m far from where my heart lingers, I still have the fond memories and the people who loved me there. No one can take that away from me.”

“What if a heart doesn’t have a home?”

“Then you make one.”

“Or find one.” Grandpa stood from the couch and placed his hand on Goro’s shoulder. “Home is not just for blood relatives, and the same goes for family.”

Grandma nodded.

“Sometimes the answer is right in front of you, and you have to take a leap of faith.” He smiled wistfully. “Would you like to stay with us?”

“He, ah, m-means tonight!” She pulled at her husband’s sleeve. “Goro already confirmed he’s spending the night. You remember that, _right_?”

Solemn was Grandpa’s face when his eyes bore into Goro’s. Again, Goro swore he saw Shido staring at him with a sad, longing smile. “Please, call your mother.”

The two left upstairs to give Goro privacy. He waited until their steps faded into their bedroom and heard the soft click of the door shut. A soft rustle stopped Goro midway from grabbing the handset. Palms sweaty. Breath heavy. Idle fingers traced along the phone. The sound disappeared into a room with a gentle lock.

Placing his finger on the hook switch, Goro dialed an imaginary number, too concentrated on his task to hear the shuffling descending then came to a full stop. He hummed to the rhythm of the ringing lest any prying ears were about. Not that Goro didn’t trust his grandparents, but he didn’t want to blow his cover. Masayoshi gave him the opportunity to stay over, and thus curb the dream to change his fate.

If only he had more time…

“Ah yes, is Tanaka there? … Great, great. This is her son, Goro. I need to speak to her for a quick minute. ...Why yes thank you!”

Goro paused for a few minutes, each second more difficult to endure than the last.

“Hello, mother? ...Ah, yes it’s me, hahaha. Um, well, I just wanted to tell you something - Ah don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. I don’t want to bother you at work, haha. As you know it’s Friday and, well, I made a new friend - I know right!? Anyway, he invited me to spend the night at his place. Can I stay over? I promise I’ll have my homework done.

“...Really? Thanks! You’re the best! ...Don’t work too hard, okay? … Yeah… Goodnight mother.”

Goro released his hold on the switch and hung up. It was easy, wasn’t it? His TV interviews prepared and molded him to be the actor, the Detective Prince. His charming one-liners and dazzling smile captivated the audience, and allowed him to gain more fame and adoring fan. But it was a sham - a mask to hide his loathsome past from the curious eyes. He had done it for so long that the acting became second nature.

This portrayal was no different from the others. Though, unlike the future, his performance in the past held more weight. Not just for him, but for his father’s family. Grandpa wanted him! He wanted him to be a part of the family and they just met! How foolish!

And yet…

What a dream come true to the boy who lost everything and gained his fame and fortune through a web of lies and sin.

In 1980 there were no people affected by Goro’s crime. No dead mother, no orphanages to pass him along like a used toy. And most importantly, there was no Assemblyman Shido Masayoshi to take advantage of his bastard son to rise to the top, crushing all who got in his way.

Perhaps he should take Grandpa’s offer. It may only last for twenty-four hours, but it would be the only twenty-four hours in the years since he said he had a family.

He turned to see Masayoshi at the base of the stairs, leaning on the rail with his hand stroking his chin, sober eyes focused on Goro.

“What did she say?”

“That it’s fine as long as it’s for one night.”

Masayoshi did not smile. “I see.”

Just “I see?” Like in the future, Goro had no telling what Shido thought. The man had a knack for hiding his feelings. Always cool, rarely visibly angry though his voice gained a foreboding thickness which sent chills down one’s spine.

Masayoshi was the same.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said, finally. “We have an extra toothbrush for you.”

  
  


Goro sat on Masayoshi’s bed. He wanted to sleep on the spare futon on the floor, but Masayoshi’s hard glare told him to shut up and accept the generosity given. A fair counterpoint, Goro had to admit.

Hiroki barged into the room with a blanket and rolled up futon in both arms. “Mom says you have to let me sleep here.”

Masayoshi responded by smacking Hiroki with a pillow. “I’m sure.”

“She did! She said it was important that I stay with Goro-senpai.”

Goro snickered at his uncle.

The elder ruffled his brother’s hair. “Just don’t snore too loud.”

The three chatted about random things - well, mainly Masayoshi and Hiroki. Goro listened to them talk. Some were about frivolous topics like food or school, others were more intimate details about their likes and dislikes.

Hiroki liked spicy food. Masayoshi could tolerate it to an extent. And while Hiroki had his career path to becoming an engineer planned out to the T, Masayoshi had no idea what to do with his future.

“I like psychology? But I dunno if that’s something I should do.”

“You like making connections, right? Why not go into business or politics?” asked Hiroki.

“Politics? Me?” Masayoshi scoffed. “Not with my record.”

“Yeah, but you’re always complaining about society and stuff, how Japan keeps shitting on the ‘invisible populations.’ Plus you’re still in top nationals, and you don’t even need cram school for it.”

Goro raised an eyebrow. “You’re in nationals?”

Masayoshi winked. “Surprised?”

“Yeah,” Goro deadpanned. There was no need to hide the lack of faith he had on delinquent Masayoshi’s academics. Shido behaved and looked distinguished, while Masayoshi was a thug. A handsome thug, but a thug nonetheless.

He laughed. “You wound me.”

“Hey Goro-senpai, do you like girls? You seem like you’re really popular! Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Ah, um-”

“What a way to kill the mood, idiot.”

“I just wanted to know!” Hiroki pouted. “I really want to have a girlfriend but, ah, girls are hard to talk to.”

“They aren’t,” Masayoshi replied. “But knowing you, you’re expecting to find the right girl during middle or high school. That shit’s so unrealistic and stupid.”

“You’re the one killing the mood you love-hater!”

“Love-hater?”

“Yeah!” Hiroki pushed Masayoshi’s shoulder. “He’s so cynical about it. He has too high expectations too. I just want a nice cute girlfriend to hold hands with. This guy wants-”

Masayoshi grabbed his brother’s face and squished it between his hands. “I never said I hated it. Not my fault I’m realistic about it.”

“Well…” Goro murmured. “What _do_ you want, Masayoshi-kun?”

Hiroki struggled under his brother’s vice grip as Masayoshi paused to think. “Lemme go!”

“I want someone…” Hands released his brother. “Someone who is at my level.”

“See what I mean?” His uncle rubbed his reddening cheeks. “Why can’t he be normal?”

“You misunderstand,” sighed Masayoshi. “When I say that I mean- Never mind. It’s not important.”

 _Yes it is! Tell me more!_ “I think I know what you mean.”

Shoulders drooped, his gaze fixated to nothing in particular. What did he expect from Masayoshi’s statement? His heart yearned for the equal to be his mother, yet his mind scolded him for having such lofty thoughts. If his mother were the woman he searched for, Shido would have never abandoned her, and raised his son as he should have. He’d have a home and a mother and a father who cherished him, a sprightly uncle, and two polar opposite grandparents who were madly in love.

“I don’t believe marriage should be used as a crutch to give up on your dreams.”

“But can’t you use your dreams to support your family?” asked Goro.

“I’m not referring to me.”

  
  


Hiroki was the first to sleep. Masayoshi followed soon after, leaving Goro to his thoughts and the darkness. So much to do and so little time. How would he manage to stay up at night? In the future it was simple by watching videos or reading articles or browse websites on his phone. The blue light kept him awake to perform his tasks whether for work or leisure. There were no smartphones or internet in Masayoshi’s present. Books and television were the only option yet unattainable in his current situation.

He could risk leaving Masayoshi’s room and try to watch whatever was on television, however, his uncle or father could catch him from the noises or if he accidentally stepped on them. Perhaps if he stepped on Hiroki, the younger Shido would follow him downstairs and keep him awake for the rest of the evening. As much as he was fine with Masayoshi, something told Goro his teenage father would force him back into bed.

That and he was far too perceptive for his own good. Goro cursed he got his deductive skills from his father instead of his mother.

Getting up seemed like a bad idea.

A long yawn escaped his lips, a telltale signs of sleep’s imminence. Goro knew it all too well. First yawn led to many others until his eyes became heavier and heavier, forcing him to sleep. He had to resist sleep!

He tossed and turned in the bed. Legs fidgeted about. Blanket on, blanket off. Feet in, feet out. Hot, cold. Comfy on the left, comfy on the right. Anything he could think of to remain uncomfortable and remain awake.

Adventures of dashing heroes and dinosaurs ran through his head. Goro never thought to become a professional writer, but creating different scenarios - realistic or fantasy - entertained him during the odd hours of the night when the internet had nothing of interest and his work done. Tonight would be the perfect night to concoct a novel or an episode of Neo Featherman or a detective story to stay awake.

He remembered how he played with the toy gun his mother gave him years ago for his birthday, and cried when the toy broke from the rough-playing. By then the toy lost its luster, paint chipped and edges dulled from the frequent use and bumping. Yet Goro loved it all the same, flaws and all.

Instead of reminiscing about his past or constructing his magnum opus, Goro’s mind wandered into today. Never in his life did he think he’d have the opportunity to do this. Who knew he held such power inside him? But what was the point of having such an ability when it came at random and its consequences could not be foreseen? Every scenario Goro thought about to change his future came out the same: muddled. An afternoon and roughly a day to fix everything, and even then there was no guarantee any of its authenticity. Loki stated the dream, didn’t he? It could all be a dream - more like a nightmare - Goro would awaken to and return to his normal life, trapped.

But it had to be real. It just had to be. Why even have such a dream? Why have powers to make others go psychotic? Couldn’t he also have the power to travel through time and make amends for himself? Though to what point and purpose? Loki sent him more than a decade before his conception. How was he supposed to fix a youth with not a worry in the world save his loving family and animated friends?

There was _nothing_ wrong with Masayoshi.

Coldness ran down his body. The chill seeped into his bones. Body trembled, vision spun. All bad things were going to happen at any moment. His fears, his anxieties, his worries? Happening. All of it. There was nothing he could do but watch in dread as the shadows and outlines of the room vibrated and swirled. Nails dug into his cheeks. Sleep beckoned out to him amidst the chaos, its sweet arms wrapping itself around Goro’s exhausted form.

He needed air.

He needed air!

HE NEEDED AIR!

“Hey, hey, hey!” a whispered voice said somewhere in the background. Goro could not hear it, or perhaps he did.

A body crawled into the bed and grabbed Goro’s wrists, pinning them down onto the mattress. “Stop scratching your face!”

“No…” Goro’s voice squeaked. His ragged breaths echoed between the walls. “I don’t want to sleep…”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked up to see Masayoshi leaning over him. Despite the darkness, Goro could see Masayoshi’s furrowed eyebrows, concerned and slightly scared by the boy’s reaction. Goro pulled away from his father’s hold; there was resistance with the eldest Shido, but Goro fought against Masayoshi’s strength, shoving him away to curl himself into a ball. The blanket would be his shield.

“Please…” Goro whispered. “I can’t fix this.”

“Fix what?” pried Masayoshi.

Wetness spread into the pillow, the familiar needled knot formed into his throat. “Please don’t change.” He sniffed. “I don’t want to go back home.”

Masayoshi laid next to Goro’s weeping form. What in the world caused him to panic so suddenly? He stroked his senpai’s hair; it was soft. Like a child’s. “I knew it...” he muttered.

“Please… not home...”

“You don’t have to go back home, you know?”

Goro clutched onto Masayoshi’s shirt. “W-what happened to you? What made you change so drastically?”

Masayoshi sighed, brushing soothing circles on Goro’s forehead. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. But… you don’t have to go back. You can stay here.”

“I…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I don’t know if I can stay here. I’m on borrowed time. I can’t sleep. If I sleep it’s all over and I don’t want it to be over! I want to s-stay!” A sob escaped. “Father, I w-want to st-stay…”

“Father?” Masayoshi paused. Was Goro in the throes of sleep, rambling nonsense from his sleep addled brain? “Look, it’s going to be okay. You should let your body rest. Go to sleep.”

“No…” Fresh tears fell despite his tiredness. The more he cried and babbled, the more pain his body endured to resist sleep. The inevitability of his fight loomed closer. The dream neared its finality. Mission failed. Sleep won at the cost of his heart. Masayoshi’s gentle touches burned into his soul. Goro longed for more of the comforting pats, but would never receive them ever again the moment he lost consciousness. Why did Masayoshi have to be so good? Why couldn’t he save his mother from meeting that rotten man? Why did Loki take him so far into the past? Why couldn’t he have his father’s touch for longer? Once was not enough. “I’m… scared.”

Masayoshi embraced Goro, rocking the sobbing boy’s body against himself. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You can stay here with me and my family. I promise… I’ll make things right...” He swallowed thickly, wavering. “I’ll protect you, Goro.”

Rapid heartbeats drummed against Goro. Excitement? Concern? Fear? What drove that heart to thump wildly against his ear? It sung like a lullaby, melancholic and weeping. Bounding and strong. Loud though unheard. Tangible yet intangible. A primal serenade to quell the restless mind. An aria for the soul - Goro’s soul.

Was the heart his own, or was it Masayoshi’s, who held him tight and allowed him to mourn for a loss he was unaware of?

The battle was lost. His mind surrendered to the body, to Masayoshi’s rhythmic hymn. Eyes shut. Muscles relaxed. Goro was gone.

  
  
  


Goro woke with a startle. A warm blanket laid across his body in a comfortable and familiar couch facing a familiar TV in a familiar living area.

Shido’s condo.

“So it’s true…” Goro sat up, head down, heart shattered. “I failed.”

No.

He did not fail.

He was tricked by his own mind. All the longing and wishing accumulated into an elaborate dream. His curiosity over Shido - his father - manifested into a morbid fantasy.

But if it was all a dream, why did it make so much _sense_? Goro never had a dream as lucid as the one he had. He felt hunger and the relief of being fed, he felt pain and the pain of Grandma’s tears, he felt the little nibbles of Masayoshi’s cute rats on his fingers.

And the heartbeat.

It had to have been grounded on reality-

Hiroki!

Goro reached for his cell across the couch. If Shido Hiroki existed, then the dream was real. Maybe he didn’t have to change the past after all. Maybe Loki used his powers so Goro would gain knowledge and use it to his advantage!

Yes, that had to be it!

Goro could still escape his terrible life. No more psychotic breakdowns, no more mental shutdowns! No longer the pathetic child seeking revenge on his father, rather the young man who sought for the family who would accept him as is, no matter the circumstance. The Phantom Thieves would live. _Ren_ would live.

“Shido…” He typed. “Hi… ro… ki…”

An engineering firm located in Amami City resulted.

 _It’s him! It’s my uncle!_ “Hiroki…”

“What did you just say?”

Goro whipped his head.

Amber eyes leered at Goro. The charming teenager now the distinguished man Goro came to know and fear. The man he wanted to conquer and punish. His father.

“Gintoki,” he remedied, hesitation absent in his voice. “The leader of the Phantom Thieves recommended me the manga Gintama and I was researching the protagonist, Gintoki.”

Shido remained silent and glanced at Goro from the bottom down.

Palms sweaty, Goro placed his phone back into his pocket. The less Shido saw him fidget the better the outcome. “Anyway Shido-san, what was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“The situation took longer than anticipated.” He tilted his head. “It’s late: you should go home.”

“But Shido-san-”

“I said home, Akechi.”

“Yes, sir,” sighed Goro, not at all disappointed. Shido gave him the permission to leave in peace. He could continue his search for his uncle.

“I’ll call you for our next rendezvous.” He stroked his chin, unable to keep his eyes off the boy. “It couldn’t be…”

“Sir?”

Shido shook his head. “It’s nothing…”

Goro gathered himself before pulling out his phone and held it against his chest. He’d find his Uncle Hiroki and speak with him. Amami City was only a train ride away after all! Even if his uncle didn’t want anything to do with - No! That was not like Hiroki! Hiroki would never grow into the monster Shido became. The lack of family pictures or any other intimate familial trinkets in Shido’s home indicated either a disowning or estrangement. That had to be it.

If only he weren’t so obsessed with triumphing over Shido, Goro would have looked into the Shido family registry and found his other family sooner. What a fool he was to let his anger cloud his judgment! The answer was in front of him all along.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He found his answer and he was going to seize the opportunity before it faded.

Opening the door, Goro met the moon beaming in the night sky. Only the brightest of stars peered through the light pollution. The fresh cool autumn air greeted him, a sign of a lovely evening to himself and the rising hope in his heart.

The moment was for him, and only him. Soon to be shared with Hiroki and perhaps Grandma and Grandpa.

One brave step out of the condo.

Darkness enveloped him. There was no concrete, no land, no earth for his feet to touch, only an abyss. Goro reached above for purchase yet found none. He was falling and swimming at the same time; the miasma thick as water.

Goro screamed out for help. No sound. No help.

Images of Goro’s life escaped into the dense atmosphere. Bubbles with his mother floated above. Memory of her dead corpse fizzled. The orphanage popped. His deal with Shido waned. Shooting Wakaba Isshiki’s vile shadow dissipated. His meeting with the Phantom Thieves vanished. Ren was gone forever. The Shido family and their warm smiles and hospitality evaporated. Masayoshi dwindled into the void.

Tears mixed with the bubbles as Goro continued to sink into the darkness devoid of warmth and love. This was his punishment for failing. Doomed into uncertainty and stripped from his memories - the only thing he truly had, and they were disappearing before his eyes.

He knew he did wrong the moment he listened to Shido’s advice to kill the shadow. The moment he heard of Wakaba’s death, Goro knew deep down inside it was his fault. He let a child go without her mother, just like him.

Breathing became more difficult as the frigid blackness filled his lungs. The bubbles diminished the less air he received. It hurt to breathe. Swallowing seared his throat.

_I failed… I failed to change my fate._

Goro held his knees together and curled into them. He breathed through his mouth, pushing through the loneliness and pain.

Falling…

Falling…

Heartbeats echoed through the chasm. A calm relief to the chaos in Goro’s mind. It would be the last thing he heard before taking his final breath.

Falling…

Falling…

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A desperate gasp of air escaped Goro’s lips. The flashing lights of the Netflix previews glowed over the darkened room. He turned to his left to find Shido sleeping, his blanket shared with Goro.

What happened?

He noted a picture frame next to the television. Hard to see though Goro could decipher a man wearing argyle and two teenage daughters in the picture.

Funny, he never seen them before and yet he knew them his entire life.

That’s my uncle and cousins, he told himself. Yes, he knew them since he was a baby. How could he forget?

But why was he here watching some goofy show with Shido of all people? Wait, was this even Shido’s condo? It certainly felt like a home Shido - no, not Shido - his father would own based on the decor Goro could see, however it wasn’t the place he had fallen from.

...Fallen?

Shido stirred, his drowsy eyes meeting with Goro’s. A soft smile formed. His hand stroked Goro’s forehead. “Lose sleep?”

He yawned. His father’s touch relaxed him like it always had. “I had a weird dream.”

Shido yawned in return, a contagious act. “What happened?”

Goro slumped against his father’s shoulder. For a split second Goro could remember the contents of his dream. It was long and tiring, and felt like he dreamed for his entire life. If his father had asked him a few minutes ago, Goro could have told him exactly everything, but now the memories of his dream faded from his consciousness, as if he never dreamt them at all. The only thing he could remember was the general emotion of the dream.

“I don’t remember… I just remember feeling sad and lonely for as long as I lived.”

“An eighteen-year dream?” Shido arched an eyebrow.

“I guess?” Goro shrugged. “I don’t even know how it went. It was strange, but… feeling like that for so long? I’m... glad it’s just a dream.”

“Do you want to head for bed?”

“I’m good.” Goro snuggled into the sofa. He hoped he never had to endure a terrible dream like that again. To live in a world all alone without the adoring family who showered him with love and support? Unthinkable. Such a fate… A punishment or a cruel joke? No. It hurt to think about it.

No use to ponder over a nightmare. Tomorrow he’d hang out with Ren and his sister and have a great time in Destinyland. The day after was watching a baseball game with dad. He’d been busy campaigning for re-election and finally found time to hang out with his family.

Maybe it was the dream, but Goro began to appreciate the little moments he had with his father. He knew his father worked tirelessly to improve conditions for everyone in Japan, not just the majority but the forgotten minorities downtrodden by the strict society. This short, quiet session eating junk food and watching television meant more to Goro than he could ever express.

“You up for another movie, Dad?”

Shido smiled, sleep heavy in his eyes. “That sounds great, Goro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
